Doing Good Work
by Dan Conine

In Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance, the author talks extensively about quality, and how to determine its attributes; how to know quality in the world around us, and what parts of life are considered quality of life. In recent years, manufacturers around the world have been actively pursuing quality programs in order to lay claim to building quality products. These programs come under the guise of 'zero-defect', 'six-sigma', 'ISO-XXXX', etc. The goal of all of these programs has been to improve the reliability of products. This reliability is usually predefined as some finite number of measurements which can be made on the product, thus quantifying the output of a particular production line as based on the design intent.

What this means is: you can make a product that is totally useless crap, as long as it is consistently useless and crappy. The entire 'quality' myth is based on the assumption that quality is quantifiable in a finite number of steps. This may be true, but good work is an infinite process which cannot end. By the same token, it is infinitely simpler than a quality program. Good work cannot be completely measured. It lies in the heart of the lover of that particular product. Not in the mind of an inspector following a blueprint, but in the soul of the user.

What makes a Stradivarius ? Not quality, but good work. It cannot be measured except by the ears of a lover of the music, and only when played by a lover of that same music. It is action to be lived in, not looked at. The commonest example of good work in modern times are the software programmers who live in their work for days at a time. The world tries to quantify and compare one software program to another by counting bugs, or tallying accounts, but the good work is done in the wee hours of the night, and it is appreciated by a dedicated user who brings the code to life, knowing he is performing feats which may not be remembered by posterity, but by his own soul.

The same relationship exists in many places, but fewer and farther between than ever in our history. This relationship between producer and user is the basis of good work. It can easily be confused with 'Flow', that feeling by a single person that they are part of the bigger picture, and fit well with it. This can also be mixed with 'Inspiration', sometimes felt as 'divine'. But these things fail to reach the level of good work because they fail the relationship between producer and user. In good work, the user may even be the same person that produced the work, but the relationship is still there. The producer of the work is compelled to embellish it with details: cleaning all the cracks and crevices, removing sharp edges, streamlining the code, pulling the weeds. The user cannot use the product without appreciating the usefulness of the thing: the reliability of a program, the noiselessness of an automobile, the responsiveness of a control, the cleanliness of the food.

The failing of a quality program to achieve good work lies in the inherent design of any quality program. A quality program is designed to allow the production of things by replaceable 'units' without the knowledge and skill required of a good work producer. Quality is, at most, reduced to 'acceptable by the average user', and at least, to 'tolerable by some users'. In the case of Microsoft, it is reduced to 'sometimes useable by disgruntled, enslaved users'.

This reduction to 'acceptability levels' has permeated our society, not only in the production of things, but also in education, food, transportation, and philosophy. We no longer seek out great thinkers who expand the meaning of words and their uses, but rather, we only accept works that are 'peer reviewed and published'. We no longer grow our own vegetables and seek out the wild fruits on fencerows, we expect any and all of the sweetest, purest, insect-free foods to be in the supermarket. We no longer buy or make tools that feel good in our hands, now they must be safety-certified, and mass-produced to fit 3 sigma of the population who is interested in a hobby.

Good work is not taught in schools. To the contrary: if an engineer has a tendency toward perfection in a product, they are criticized for delaying a production schedule and 'over-engineering' something. The goal is always to make a quick profit in order to continue on in business. Pursuit of good work in a product is not even thought of as a goal in itself. Quality is looked at from the profitability/ROI point of view: How much quality vs the cost of implementing the program? If you want the best motorcycle, you find a lover of motorcycles and ask them what should be done. A survey of motorcycle users yields too many compromises in size, price, and features. A motorcycle lover that smooths out the sharp edges, fits pieces to exacting tolerance, and takes care of rattles and leaks knows where to find the problems that a loving user will appreciate being absent.

The high cost of this investment is mainly in two areas: ego and time. The inventor of a thing must put aside the notion that he can know all about something, and accept criticism. The production line must slow down enough to allow the producers of the product to get to know each part. Just as a good doctor knows each patient grows differently, each part on a machine, or program, or garden must be seen in its own light. Defects only show up the same way twice if they are designed that way, and if they are designed to be that way, a quality program will not look for them.

Good work is the intentional complication of a task. Quality measurement and control is the intentional simplification and specialization of the same task. To produce a good chair, you carefully cut, sand , and polish it until you are done finding things to sand and polish. To produce a quality chair, you set up a system which makes as few cuts, the least number of sanding requirements, and a finite number of steps to completion. The quality chair may be used, accepted, and may even last a finite period of time. The good chair will be loved, traded, gifted, repaired, and eventually worn into kindling.

Dan Conine wrote "Doing Good Work", later in this issue. Dan's firm, Product Discovery, is marketing and licensing the patents of its founder, Gregory R. Brotz. See www.invedyne.com on the Web. You can e-mail Dan at dan@productdiscovery.com.