Needle, Meet Haystack

What if I told you that I could make you an expert in less time than it takes to cook some TV dinners?

What would you do if you could attain guru status in any subject before you even finish reading this post?

Would you use it to bolster your reputation with your peers?  Would you use it to enhance your personal brand?  Would you climb onto your roof and shout, “I AM A GENIUS!” for all the world to hear?

Well, you can do whatever you’d like, because all it takes to transform anybody from an average schlub to a knowledge adept is two things: The 10% Rule and the economic principle of scarcity.

The 10% Rule has been covered in this blog before, but it boils down to this: you only need to know 10% more than your audience to be a knowledgeable source.  Easy enough, right?  But how can you use it to your advantage?

Enter scarcity.  Here’s an example:

The World Cup is going on right now.  There are millions of people all over the globe watching it.  But soccer/football/fútbol isn’t quite as popular in the USA.  In fact, no one in my office is watching the World Cup.  Except for me.

I check scores, watch highlights and read game overviews online.  This takes up maybe three minutes of my day.  I don’t know too much about the specifics (I’ve only watched a few games, and those were all when I was on vacation a few weeks ago) and I hardly remember the names of most of the players, but I still have some knowledge of the events that are going on.

As a result, I have a tremendous knowledge lead over my co-workers.  So even though I might be lacking in knowledge depth compared to an avid World Cup viewer, I’m still more educated on it than anyone in my office.  After all, it’s more than zero.  And that’s why, whenever someone’s curious about how the different countries’ teams are doing, they ask me.

This is where scarcity comes into play.  The fewer people with knowledge on the subject, the more powerful even remedial information is.  If there was another person in the office who was also watching the World Cup, my expertise would diminish.  In fact, they might have more information than I do, making them seem like the expert, and putting me at more of an “enthusiast” position.

So to truly become an expert in as little time as possible, you need to find a knowledge gap that your audience has and then exploit it with the information that you have on the subject.  Even if it’s just browsing through the article on Wikipedia, having any information puts you a leg up over everyone else.  If you know where there’s a dearth of information in peoples’ minds, you can use it to your advantage.

This sounds suspiciously like being an early adopter, doesn’t it?

That does make sense, though.  The people who are the first to try something have the most time to get familiar with it, investigate it, and learn about it.  Whether it’s business blogging or using the new iPhone, the people who have seniority and history will at least seem to be experts compared to those who join up later.

So if you want to become an expert in a flash, find a subject in which the knowledge of your audience is scarce, then gain at least a 10% knowledge advantage over them.  You can even get it done while you’re finishing a sandwich!

Just don’t take the World Cup.  That one’s mine.

Have you seen American Pickers?  It’s a show on the History Channel about two guys who go around to homes that are one dead cat away from being on Hoarders and then buy some of their stuff to refurbish and sell at an antique shop.  Or at least that’s what I think it’s about.  All I really remember from the bits I saw were scenes where they’re trying to haggle with a bunch of collectors about beaten-down signs, old bicycles, and assorted knickknacks.  The entire show seems to enforce a single message:

Something is only worth as much as people are willing to pay for it.

Sounds simple, right?  That’s pretty much the tenet of any capitalist market, after all.  It’s the reason why we have stocks, jewelery, VIP rooms at clubs, corporate brands, sommeliers, and organic food.  If we didn’t put a premium on certain items over others, we would have a mono-level system, where quality (or a lack thereof) could not be identified.  Some people would say that this is a good thing, since it puts everyone on the same level.  I say those people are no-good Communist hippie hoboes who are probably supporting their bongo-playing, illegal substance-smoking, silly hat-wearing habits through food stamps and generic brands and should be kicked out on their hemp-clothed butts.*

We pay more for certain things because we perceive that they have a higher value.  That’s why diamonds cost a lot. That’s why some menus have absurdly expensive items. And that’s why some people get paid more than others.

Experience, education and reputation can increase perceived value.

Regardless of one’s actual work-related skills or competencies, sometimes, it’s one’s social skills that make all the difference.  It’s how the phenomenon sometimes referred to as Why did they promote that jerk? exists in the first place.  Some people can play to social niceties better than others, and it can pay off for them in the workplace.

In other cases, promotions (and usually raises) are given by performance metrics as a sort of meritocracy.  Proof of productivity and improves performance are essential here, and can make all the difference in moving up the corporate ladder.  But in many cases, employees have to make their employers aware of this; if a boss thinks you’ll do better work for the same pay, they’ll continue to give you the same pay.

Companies may produce any number of goods and services, but they all invest in human capital.  They rate their workers on their comparative value from the tasks that they are assigned, and budget accordingly.  Sometimes, these numbers are deflated or inflated.  So much like a stock trader, it falls on the worker to correct the mistake (or not).  Sometimes, this means negotiating a raise.  Sometimes, this means shopping around for a position with a competitor.  And sometimes, it means biding one’s time to prove their worth to the company.

The cost of working at any job should be less than or equal to the cost of not working somewhere else.

So how much are you worth?  Well, that depends on how much your company is willing to pay for you.  And if you think that you’re being undervalued, maybe it’s worth your time to see if you can get an accurate appraisal.

* Kidding, I’m sure that you’re a charming bunch, but you should really look into economics and how a global market works.  Just sayin’.

Well, I’m sure some people care about your fat ass.  And they definitely care about your phat ass.  Heck, I like to think that some people care about my fat ass.  But one thing that I hope no one cares about is my fat gut.

I’ve become a little obsessed with my weight lately, with four generations’ worth of Diabetes in the family, as well as heart disease and other fun ailments fueling my paranoia.  Over the years, I’ve done everything from trying crash diets to daily 3-hour gym sessions to binging on sugary, fatty crap as I tried to assure myself that it wouldn’t happen to me yet.  Every pound I put on is a small defeat in a war I see no end of.

This guy needs to shut the heck up, you’re saying to yourself.  So what if he’s got a spare tire or something?  I saw that video he did a while back, and he looks okay to me. To which I would reply, “You hear about skinny fat people?  Yes, that’s a thing.  And yes, I might be one of them.”

We hear commentators all the time espousing on how the advertising and entertainment industries give people a poor body image.  And while I don’t necessarily agree with that sentiment, it seems like they’re missing the overarching issue: having too much extra weight isn’t healthy.  And I’m deathly afraid of ballooning up like, well, a fat-filled balloon.

Last week, I was in Vegas (that explains where the NSS went then, huh?), lounging at the pool with some of my friends, when I realized that I had left my wallet up at the room.  So, with the kind of thinking that only comes with drinking two or three 32-ounce mojitos, I toweled off, grabbed my room key card, slid on my sandals, and proceeded to head back up to the room.  Sans shirt.

It was only after I’d arrived at the room that I realized what had happened.  And while I’m pretty sure a lot of it had to do with my not walking on the casino floor, no one I passed batted an eye or made any mention of how I looked.  They just didn’t care about my fat ass.

So maybe I’m blowing this whole thing out of proportion.  I mean, it’s a good idea to eat healthy and exercise, but the rare twinkie or occasional cookie isn’t the worst thing in the world.  And as long as I stay in decent shape (instead of becoming a shape), there’s no reason to really stress out about it too much.  But it is my responsibility.

After all, if I don’t care about my fat ass, who will?

Have you heard of the Paperwork Reduction Act?  Its goal, when it was drafted in 1980, was to simplify the bureaucratic process, so less time and paperwork would be needed (pretty self-explanatory, right?).  It’s been in effect for about 20 years now, helping to separate the wheat from the chaff to help citizens.  When it was first introduced, Americans spent a combined total of over one billion hours on government paperwork per year.  That was from 1980-1981.  And from 2009-2010, Americans only spent about 9.9 billion hours on government paperwork.

Whoops.

There is hope, though!  All you need to do is fill out Standard Form 152 – the official government form for clearing or cancelling other forms.*  Wait, what?!

Everyone strives for simplicity in their lives, be it in their careers, social connections, purchases or lifestyles.  But things can get complicated very quickly.

The “intrinsically comprehensible” iPhone has run into some problems with its newest version in that it loses the “phone” part as soon as you pick it up.  Designers selling minimalist furniture charge thousands of dollars for their designs.  Oh, and the people at Starbucks look at you like you’re wearing your underwear on the outside of your pants when you ask for a “small coffee.”  I tell ya, simplicity ain’t what it used to be.

Our lives are dictated by dozens (or hundreds, or thousands) of social interactions every day; we use machines so complex that most people don’t know how the hardware itself works.  We race around from place to place, always rushing, always looking for a way to remove the clutter.  People who market themselves as Feng Shui masters or professional organizers rake in boatloads of money helping people to downsize their lives.  Of course, setting appointments and accomplishing the simplification requires a lot of time, organization, and even a bit of stress.

Thoreau would not be pleased.

But clutter isn’t all bad; with more choices and outlets  for our day-to-day lives, we’re able to personalize ourselves and our experiences more than ever before.  Individuals are truly becoming individuals in a grander sense, thanks to a host of options for hobbies, entertainment, fashion, careers, and even diets.  We form small tribes (or tribelets, if you will) based on these different cultural factions.  And so, we find simplicity in our interactions through shared interests, as diverse as they may be.

Which brings us to Toki Pona.

Toki Pona was created in the early 2000s as a minimal language.  It only has 123 root words (meaning you might have to talk around other words), which means that you could probably become fluent in about 2 weeks.  But besides the obvious advantage of having a complete secret language to share with friends, what’s another advantage to simplifying language like this?

You’ll actually be able to understand and communicate more clearly.

Let’s throw out the issue of spelling errors and apostrophe mangling and other grammar issues.  Let’s forgo the implications of complex descriptors due to the small number of root words.  Let’s forget that the limited number of words might cause it to be a dead language.  Instead, let’s focus on what it is: a way to get around a lot of the confusion of speaking.

Instead of figuring out the most tactful way to ask someone to turn their music down because you’re trying to sleep, you’re limited to only one way to do so.  Instead of fluttering around on figuring out how to ask someone out to dinner, you’ve only got a couple of choices.  It’s a more stripped-down and less face punch-inciting version of radical honesty.  And instead of using NLP to try to force an underlying message, one must be direct.

Plus, if you and a few friends learn it, you can have your own super-secret language to share between you.  And I don’t know about you, but I always wanted one of those.

If we want to simplify our lives, maybe a good place to start is with communication.  As one might say in Toki Pona, ona pona li kama.  It’s a good start.

*Facts taken from Wikipedia (linked above) and this article from Cracked.com