April 1, 2020

Uncomfortable progress: automation, creativity and self-worth

Andrew Chaplin, delivery

Ever had that feeling that you’re no longer needed? 

Welcome to the world of building technology. It’s about working yourself out of a job. It’s what makes Local Welcome possible. And it’s ever so uncomfortable. 

Why tech is important to us

This is a personal reflection on something I’ve learnt as part of this team. But before I go any further, let me clarify that by ‘technology’ I mean tools and systems which enable a task to be completed quicker and more effectively than otherwise possible. In Local Welcome’s context, this often means automating them through the use of computer programming - but apparently no one calls it that, they just call it ‘tech’.  (Tech comes up a lot in our previous blogposts - in particular, Claire’s piece on encountering tech as an outsider, and Will’s explanation of how tech helps us scale). 

Local Welcome’s goal to become self-funding relies on the potential of tech to scale a product without needing more staff. My job right now is full of tasks related to processing leaders and auditing group resources. I do it for 8 groups. We want to grow to 80 groups. And still have only one of me. To make this possible, we need to automate a lot of the tasks that I do right now.

Working yourself out of a job

Tech starts with documenting how you do what you do. Take a task. Now type out the steps in a document, include the files and links required, make sure everyone has access, and connect the specific process to the wider whole. The result should be sufficiently clear and accurate that a colleague could now do the task instead. 

Tech is about making sure that not everything’s riding on you. It starts with making it possible for other people to do your job. You’re constantly making things accessible and inclusive (which has the added bonus of boosting resilience for when people go on holiday or sick leave). But crucially, if other people can do your job, it means that it is documented, collectively understood, and this is the first step towards automating it. Because if you can map it, then you can teach it, then you can get a computer to do it.

This week I am documenting every task I do to process a leader: from when they first sign up, to approving and training them, to when they eventually move on to other things. The process will then be pulled apart - each step scrutinised, each email and SMS rewritten, each data collection point automated. My job will change. It’s already happened with booking leaders onto meals, with how to pack the kit, with doing regular communications to venues. And each time, it feels pretty uncomfortable.

Recognising how it feels, and speculating why

I like things riding on me! I like to be indispensable. I like to keep my work in a black box, so that only I know how to do it. Because in my head, the alternative is being Chandler Bing: “If I don’t input those numbers… it doesn’t make much of a difference”.

So why do I find this so hard? One reason is reluctance to change. When the tasks I do now get automated, my job changes. Nobody likes change, and I’m as stubborn as the best of them.

Being indispensable is a story I tell about myself to shore up self-esteem. I’m a type 4 on the enneagram, so my deepest fear is that I don’t have a unique identity. I want my tasks to be only things that I can do, or else, what is my value to the team?

And thirdly, building technology seems to me to be the complete opposite of creating art. Before joining Local Welcome I was making bespoke wooden rings. I love putting my signature to something unique. The creative work of a painter, songwriter, or poet is irreplaceably the product of their human imagination. Building technology - documenting, replicating, automating - is about speed, efficiency, standardisation and scale. Art is none of these things. I like art. But I need technology.

Embracing the uncomfortable

Without tech, we wouldn’t be able to scale a product, we wouldn’t be able to keep working as a small team, we wouldn’t be able to make Local Welcome self-funding. 

I reread my gut reactions above, and immediately realise that my self-authored dependency which gives me a feeling of importance may be profoundly irritating to my colleagues - and worse, threaten the resilience of the organisation. My indulgent tendency to build complexity into a task so that only I know how to do it doesn’t help anyone. 

However, force me to map out a task, and I must work out precisely what’s going on, with distilled clarity and focus, ready for someone else to understand and follow. Sometimes there are idiosyncrasies that get lost, but that’s ok. And sometimes people work out better ways to do it (in fact, often people work out better ways to do it!). This is all really good learning for me. 

Learning feels hard! (Sounds like growth mindset. Ah, so it is. Hello, old friend). Dispelling the myths helps. The value I bring to my team isn’t tied to my sole possession of a secret resource (like having the only copy of the office key). Nor will technological progress condemn us all to having purposeless jobs like Chandler Bing. Tech doesn’t build itself. Humans need to be doing the things that robots can’t - listening to user needs, designing imaginative solutions, applying judgement and subtlety, documenting the new process and passing it on.

Local Welcome needs me to be creative. It needs me to be open and adaptive to change. It needs me to work myself out a job. Again, and again, and again.