A school for learning

01

I’m fascinated by Fuji Kindergarten, as profiled by Fiona Wilson in Monocle magazine.  Fuji Kindergarten is a school whose building was designed by Tezuka Architects.

I wish my kids could go to Fuji Kindergarten.  I wish I could have gone to Fuji Kindergarten.  I wish I could go now.  Fuji Kindergarten, I reckon, is what happens when "chutes and ladders" meets a thought experiment about education which goes back to first principles.  What  makes it so unusual an educational institution is that it places the most emphasis on learning, rather than on teaching.  And on students rather than teachers (and, I’d wager, on teachers rather than administrative staff…).  Think about that one for a while.

Next time I travel to Japan, I’m going to try and visit Fuji Kindergarten.  In the mean time, I’m going to try and apply some of its lessons to our own school project over here at Stanford, called the d.school.  Perhaps we can work harder to make the architecture really support the learning process behind design thinking.

By the way, I’m beginning to really dig Monocle magazine.

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The Name of the Game is Work

The big thing about playing video games used to be that they were the new golf, a novel way to hang with friends and business associates in order to maybe bond, collude, or even get some productive work done.  But it’s not just about golf anymore:  Aili McConnon from BusinessWeek just published an article about the intersection of work and gaming, and I’m here to tell you that video gaming is about work.  I even landed a quote in there referencing the lessons to be had from playing MMOG’s

The lessons learned in these games become increasingly useful as
companies become less command-and-control and more a series of
distributed networks around the world.  The future of work
is here; it’s just disguised as a game.

The article also talks through some interesting game-related stories from McKinsey, J&J, and Philips, and also has a great insight from my Stanford d.school partner in crime Bob Sutton

I really do think that you can learn a lot about where this whole Web 2.0 thing is going by playing games online.  Learning by doing, serious play, and all that.

Innovating past the leading edge

An extra heaping serving of power-on oversteer, anyone?

This video is a hot lap of Laguna Seca as seen by driver Michael Sheehan behind the wheel of a gnarly — gnarly! — 1968 McLaren M6B Can-Am racing car. To be precise, this doesn’t seem much like driving a normal car to me; it seems to have much more in common with being strapped to the tip of an ICBM.  Here’s what lighting the wick on a M6B feels like, in the words of Sheehan:

This was the car driven by ex-Formula 1 driver (and race winner) Jo
Bonnier
. The car has in the neighborhood of 600hp and weighs in around
1,700lbs. It’s an aluminum monocoque, which is very different from
modern racecars. Think of it as sheet aluminum origami secured with
rivets. The only "safety cage" to speak of is a not very confidence
inspiring main hoop, braced only with a stringer from the center top of
the hoop back to the head on the engine, which is secured with
removable pins.

Let me honest by saying that I currently feel like someone has beaten
the crap out of me with a baseball bat. My lats, shoulders, pecs and
upper arms are sore from wrestling with the car. I have a
bruise/abrasion the size of a Coke can on my right buttock from sitting
directly on the aluminum floor. Don’t ask me how, I still don’t know.
Oh, and despite the earplugs, my ears are still ringing. All in all, I
couldn’t be happier and I wouldn’t change a thing. Every muscle ache
brings a happy memory back from yesterday.

Aside from being remarkably gnarly, the McLaren M6B is the tangible expression of a wildly successful innovation program called the Canadian-American Challenge Cup, or Can-Am.  Can-Am was a racing series which attracted the very best engineers and drivers.  What made it unique was its lack of rules.  The only real constraints facing the teams particpating in Can-Am were time, money, and the physical layout of the tracks to be raced on.  When it came to what you wanted to race, the sky was the limit — and it engendered some incredible designs, including the some very advanced aerodynamic and structural solutions.  And horsepower came oozing out of every nook and crevice, leading up to the amazing Penske Porsche 917, whose dominance effectively killed the series, because it "cracked" the code — no further innovation was possible given period technology, no matter one’s budget.

What’s the lesson for creating innovative behavior?  It’s that macro conditions matter the most when your goal is to push the state of the art.  Setting macro context is more important than mapping out a golden strategy at the micro level.  If you want to produce astoundingly innovative solutions in a revolutionary sense, perhaps the best thing you is to set a few very broad boundary conditions, such as time and money, and then let everyone go do their thing.  In this way, Can-Am was very much an early type of automotive X PRIZE, if one which pursued a very different performance vector.  Just as in an X PRIZE competition, the governing body behind Can-Am declared set amounts of prize money, told people where and when to come and do performance tests, and then watched lots of adult human beings spend lots of blood, sweat, tears, and cash in the pursuit of victory.  Can-Am was the ultimate in high-variance automotive innovation, and at the right end of the Gaussian distribution of car designs came things like the M6B.  And they were awesome.

For the serious UGG types among you, here’s a twenty-five minute video of Sheehan driving a race around Laguna Seca:

The annual Monterey Historic Races are on August 17-19, and the West Coast staff of metacool will there in force.  The races are not just a great chance to see historic pieces of machinery such as the M6B in action, but are a wonderful way to appreciate the ingenuity, courage, and sheer beauty involved in this human endeavor we call design.

Open Source Hardware

I’m violating the "metacool employees shall not write blog posts past 10pm on a school night" rule by posting this, but I’m simply too excited not to.  As a recovering mechanical design engineer who has a thing for software in general — and a big thing for open source software in particular — Brad Feld’s recent post about Bug Labs is just plain cool.  I can’t wait to see what comes out of this.

Of course, there’s nothing that says that only software creation can benefit from an open source approach.  Mozilla has shown that you can take an open source approach to marketing.  And Threadless says something (if not something deep) about open sourcing content.  These are exciting times to be in the business of creating stuff.  Yes indeed.

This notion is nothing new.  The ur open source piece of hardware is the Chevy small-block V8.  Hubba hubba.

Wordless

I’ve been tracking my usage of Word versus Google Documents over the past month, and for the first time I’ve done more work "online" than "ondisk".  In many, many ways, working with text and spreadsheet documents online is a much better fit for the realities of my life.  For example:

  • I’m really wary of losing my data.  I think Google takes better care of my data than I ever could.
  • I’m wary of mechanical breakdowns.  My last PowerBook got bent like a banana (wasn’t my fault).  It could happen again.  But I never want to lack access to my data again.
  • I use multiple computers.  I’m so over lugging my five-pound laptop to and from my work office and home and to classrooms at Stanford.  Much better to be able to access things from any computer.
  • I like to share.  When it comes to thinking and creating, I’m an extrovert.  I like to share, or to have the  option to share, documents with other people.  You can do that with Word, but the tracking and rev control features provided by Google are far superior, in my opinon.

Yes, I need an Internet connection to access this stuff.  But, at least where I live, WiFi is almost as ubiquitous as clean, running water.  And yes, Google has my data and it’s public (so I don’t put private stuff up there for now), but our government reads my emails and probably listens to my phone calls, so…

None of my reasons for liking software as a service are new.  In fact, they’re exactly the talking points I used when I was responsible for marketing an accounting "software as service" offering — QuickBooks Online Edition — about six years ago, before this stuff was cool (by the way, QuickBooks Online has over 100,000 customers now… sweet!).  But Google’s apps, as simple as they are, really hit a sweet spot for me.  As does the Typepad service I use to put up this blog, the Gmail I use to talk to people who email me from this blog… and many other apps.  It’ll only get better when I start (I hope) using an iPhone in a year or two.

I’ll be at the iMeme conference tomorrow, so I hope to hear more about where "software" is heading.  But I’m convinced this stuff is for real.  It has crossed the chasm, and Google is ready to seriously disrupt Microsoft’s Office.  This is good for us users.

More Garage Majal…

My Garage Majal post touched a nerve.  Had a great discussion in comments, and received some strongly worded emails.  Thanks for those — I learned a lot from the feedback.

Brendan Eich of Mozilla wrote a post back in April called Open Source and "Openness", and it sheds some good light on the argument I was trying to make about "brilliant networks".  Here’s a quote:

Successful open source projects combine meritocratic leadership,
"doing" more than "talking", and breadth through well-scoped extension
mechanisms. It’s not enough to do great work by oneself: each committer
who has the stamina and remains engaged must spend time listening to
users and developers, grooming helpers and successors, and refactoring
or even redesigning to support what becomes, module by module, a platform.

I think we’re entering a period where a new style of leadership — let’s call it web leadership — is emerging.  Brilliant networks aren’t bereft of great leadership.  Far from it.  It’s just that the leadership style required in a network is something quite different from what we’re used to.  Something to ponder over the next few weeks.

Innovation Lessons from Garage Majal

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Here’s an interesting article about Ron Dennis, the leader of McLaren.  That’s him on the right in the photo above, accompanied by the author of the article, semiotician Stephen Bayley.  It’s a fascinating walk through the McLaren Technology Centre, which is where wickedly beautiful and effective machines like McLaren F1 racers and the Mercedes SLR are wrought.

One can’t read about Ron Dennis without thinking about Steve Jobs.  Both have created high-performance organizations which are able to innovate on a routine basis.  Both run organizations which are hierarchical and honest about it.  As Dennis remarks to Bayley, "Dust can be eliminated," and I think that’s as much an organizational metaphor as a statement about the level of hygiene found at McLaren.

How does one organize for innovation?  I’m beginning to think there’s a bimodal answer at work:  either build an organization around an exceptionally "right" individual like Jobs or Dennis, and have every aspect of it amplify their personal decision making abilities, or build a powerful network of individuals, a la Mozilla, which determines what is "right" based on the power of thousands of individuals — some talented, some not so — making deep bugs shallow.  In other words, brilliant dictator, or brilliant network.  Between those reigns the mediocrity of committees and task forces and focus groups.

What do you think?