I’ll be giving a keynote speech and moderating a panel on July 26 at the AlwaysOn Innovation Summit @ Stanford. My partner in crime at the event will be Bob Sutton.
Bob and I will be discussing the topic "What is the Secret Behind Creating Infectious Behavior?" We just finished teaching a related class called Creating Infectious Acton.
So, if you plan on being there, drop me a line beforehand or just say hello once we’re there. I look forward to meeting you.
"Ultimately, it is not so much the goal that we should be concerned about as much as the process
through which we attempt to achieve it. A return trip to Mars will
require that we invent many new technologies and systems, all of which
will have to perform seamlessly to ensure a safe and successful
mission. Given the amount of uncertainty involved in such an endeavor,
it is naïve to think we can sit here today and identify the date of our
first touchdown and the means by which we will get there. Instead, we
need to adopt a modular, experiment-driven approach, gradually building
and verifying the set of technologies that will be needed for such a
mission, while adapting our plans as we learn more about what
approaches have merit, and which are likely to be dead ends."
— Alan MacCormack
I said it once, I’ll say it again: Nano is the New Turbo
Wired, in a weirdly recursive way, agrees.
You heard it here first.
That’s marketing.
Thank you.
Have you been watching the World Cup?
During today’s Italy-Germany match I have to admit I was a bit distracted by a recurring thought popping in to my head: Why did the Italians seem to be sweating so much more than the Germans?
Of course, after a while, I realized that the ubiquitous underarm sweat blotches I was seeing where actually part of the graphic design of the Italian jersey. Now, I’m a proponent of thinking through what a design will look like in use, and after it is used, but I find the point of view which led to this design somewhat odd. Purposeful proactive pit stainage as a premediated graphic design element? Weird. Not beausage.
For me, the highlight of the 2006 Brainstorm Conference was the opportunity to hear Associate Justice Sandra Day O’Connor speak about the intricacies of the Constitution of the United States.
In response to an audience question about the staying power of the Constitution (it’s the oldest in existence), she paused, picked up her purse, and took out a copy of the Constitution in pamphlet form — maybe 5 x 2.5 inches. Just imagine: the document which shaped this country, and continues to guide it and many others around the world hundreds of years later, fits on just a few small sheets of paper. Marvellously extensible and modular, it is also written in plain language. Isn’t that something? For all its enormous generative power, the Constitution is likely more concise and more intelligible than many software license use agreements.
Thank you, Justice O’Connor, for giving us a dramatic lesson in the power of simplicity. Simple design, but not ever simplistic.
Of course, perhaps that simplicity shouldn’t be surprising. Why? Well, because said constitution was penned by a design thinker.
Steve Jurvetson, who is also attending the Brainstorm conference, provided what is easily my favorite answer to Question #4, "Your most cherished value?"
I’m so happy Steve took the opportunity to talk about the Stanford d.school. As I like to say when I’m leading classes at the d.school, what we endeavor to teach is the ability to look at the world through the eyes of a child, but matched up with an attitude of wisdom informed by a deep belief in building to think. That’s the path to innovation.
Here are four big questions to ponder:
All four questions were asked of people attending Brainstorm 2006, including yours truly. Here are my answers:
See more answers from other bloggers at the conference, including Ross Mayfield, Dan Gillmor, and Rebecca MacKinnon
Ideas Worth Spreading.
That’s a topic near and dear to my heart. And one for which I’m more than happy to play a willing accomplice.
In this particular case, it’s both a pleasure and a duty.
At the TED2006 conference earlier this year I had a peak life experience in the form of a talk by Sir Ken Robinson. He stirred my soul and reminded me why I was here on the planet.
I encourage you to take 20 minutes to listen to Sir Robinson. If you’re engaged in any kind of creative endeavors in your life (and
we all are), you must see this. And if you’re responsible for the
care, feeding, and education of another human being, you must see this. See his video (and many more) on TEDTalks.
(plus, it’s all sponsored by one of my favorite producers of cool products, BMW)
This past weekend a brand came alive. The brand had already existed, and oodles of money had been spent to build it, but it wasn’t a living, breathing thing yet. In other words, it was still a brand built by marketers, not a brand felt and understood by people out in the world.
The brand I’m talking about in particular is Audi’s TDI, which represents the state of the art in diesel-based internal conbustion. In the guise of Audi’s wicked new R10 race car, TDI not only won the 24 Hours of Le Mans (possibly the toughest race in the world), but also broke all the records, going farther than any car had gone before, while getting better gas mileage to boot.
Last week TDI was something which a person with a technical background like me would have explained to you in terms of technology (high-pressure fuel injection, clever turbos) and/or performance metrics, such as torque and consumption. And I might have convinced you. But could you have told a friend? Would you have remembered the critical bits? Would it all have meant something?
Now all I have to say is "TDI won Le Mans". TDI is now a real story, and a romantic one at that, and from now on diesel isn’t the smelly, smokey old Mercedes station wagon blocking the left lane but a speeding silver arrow whispering down the Mulsanne. TDI. Your brand is what you do in the world, not what you say you do.
