A fellow reader asked a great question the other day. "How do you teach your kids to be bored? Mine hate boredom." It's a great question because it's a timeless complaint parents have heard, magnified in the age of instant gratification and digital entertainment.
The foundation for this answer comes first in communication and cooperation between all child caretakers, be it parents, grandparents, or whoever is watching the child for a reasonable amount of time. Boredom is an itch that everyone wants to scratch. Adults can scratch the itch of boredom for themselves, but kids typically rely on adults to help them scratch it. So if a single adult in the room caters to the child's complaint of boredom and immediately scratches their itch, that adult becomes the path of least resistance, and the child will always go to them in the future. A unified approach is critical to implement good habits.
Once all primary adults are aligned, then the real work begins. The first is to limit how many cheap distractions a kid has. Today's toys are frequently gimmicky and designed to give instant novelty dopamine hits while lacking depth in experimentation. Play with it for 15 minutes, then throw it away and buy something new. It's impossible to avoid all the cheap, gimmicky toys, but my wife and I try to prevent first acquiring and then quietly throwing away any that do make it into the household. With the marketing put out convincing our kids of the imperative nature of owning the latest fad, it's a struggle, and I'm not sure how successful we are, but we at least both acknowledge we should minimize these toys and make an attempt at it.
The best solution to avoiding the gimmick is implementing a chore-based allowance system that puts money into their pockets daily, assuming they complete their chores. Then, they must purchase all the toys they want themselves. They can still buy the gimmicky, but sometimes, explaining how they spent weeks saving up to buy a toy they'll play with for only a single day hits home. It doesn't happen every time, and sometimes they still buy the gimmick, especially our youngest, but over time, it's been sinking in. We are equipping them today with the mental mapping they need to make good purchasing decisions in the future. Prepare them today with insignificant low-cost toys so they are ready in the future when they make large-dollar purchasing decisions.
Instead of those cheap-thrills toys, we try to get longer-lasting toys. Legos do the trick, especially free-forming collections of loose pieces, so the kids have to build from their imagination. Colors (crayons, colored pencils, markers, etc.) and creative supplies are great too. Even the furniture can be creative. We got our kids The Nugget (https://nuggetcomfort.com/), which they use to build forts, go indoor camping, build reading dens, use as a coach, etc. We also like science-based or learning-based toys too. Although those tend to be a single-use experience, they are learning in the process, so it is forgivable. Books are the same way, and the library is a cheap way to get those single-use items, so we take the kids about once a month to renew their literary collections.
In general, we tend to find reasons to purchase these toys ourselves: birthdays and Christmas, treats for doing something well, or any excuse to maintain the system of them buying their toys while bending it to encourage them to get toys we feel are better for them.
Once you've minimized your collection of gadgets and tried to gear it around more complex or creative toys, the next thing is to limit the most dominant must-have instant gratification items. For us, it's screen time, specifically an iPad and Nintendo Switch.
To counter these two, we have a few systems in place. First is that they have to earn their screen time. They must do two screens and two year-round educational activities each day: DuoLingo and Kumon. Both are only 15-30 minutes, so they are manageable daily. The rule is that after they do one of their educational activities, they can use one of their screens. If they've been highly unruly recently, they must do both educational activities before either screen time. Depending on the teacher, homework is a third educational activity they must complete during the school year. They can watch me play the Switch if they complete this third activity.
There are a few reasons why this last way is essential. It's beneficial because although I stopped playing games long ago, it helps me destress to pick up a controller. It's an excellent motivator for me to put down work on days I'm especially swamped. We also play games outside, board games, and do other things, but screen time especially motivates our youngest, so he's guaranteed to be insistent on unlocking this bonding time. But here's another crucial reason why I like them watching me. It teaches them social watching. Exposing them to games they might not usually be interested in is a benefit. Watching someone else click all the buttons while they sit back and observe teaches them patience. My favorite type of game is the story-based RPG game, which typically has a world to explore, so it teaches them good co-piloting skills. I put a world map or dungeon map in front of them, and they direct me to where I need to go. Overall, it is a great bonding exercise.
We now have established a reward system for screen time. Next up is limiting screen time per session. Parental controls make setting up the screen restrictions easy. The iPad and Switch have built-in screen limits, so we set both to 30 minutes. That way, no one has to keep a manual timer. It's all built-in, and when it's over, it's over.
All the prep work is now complete. We've minimized the cheap-thrill gimmicky toys. Instead, we've focused on creative, mind-utilizing, and longer-lasting toys. We've implemented a reward system while putting automated timer limits on their screens. We have to funnel everything into this system, which is the hardest part.
When they come up to us complaining about the itch of boredom, we do not want to scratch it for them. That's the easy solution to appease them and make the complaining disappear. Still, it only teaches them to rely on external toys for entertainment and external people to facilitate them to play with those toys. Instead, we point out and provide suggestions for their creative toys to help spark something to do. If they say no to that, we point out that with a room full of toys and items, if they can't figure out anything to do, we suggest we go through what they have and get rid of things. Fear of losing their gimmicky toys can sometimes motivate them, which, ironically, they never play with but have difficulty getting rid of. If they still need to do their educational activities, we suggest they do those to get the screen times. Sometimes, we only tell them to go into their rooms to figure it out independently. And leave it at that. It sometimes feels like lousy parenting because we ignore their complaints. But it's forcing them to scratch their itch and exercise their creative muscles. After we've told them this, we've often seen our youngest sitting on the bed, staring into nothing. It could be better, but hopefully, something is brewing. At this point, they usually figure something out: reading, napping, colors, or Legos being the current trend.
It's not perfect, nor do we flawlessly execute. But it is gradually working, and over time, it hopefully continues giving the kids the versatility to avoid the easy instant gratification way out of boredom and instead embrace it and channel that energy into something more beneficial.
7.15.2024
7.08.2024
#43 | Empty Promises
I was talking to a leader in a tech startup recently, and they mentioned the levels of uncertainty and insecurity that have recently started popping up in their colleagues. After years of developing and pivoting its product, the startup recently launched its MVP, or minimum viable product.
They are now receiving a lot of interest, seeing sales growth, and a lot of promise in expanding the product beyond the MVP. All are very positive. The predicament they are facing is that after years of developing the product, too many within the company have become somewhat complacent and have lost their fire. They became comfortable with the tinkering and needed to remember the intensity of a do-or-die startup where things are advancing quickly, and the customer is fickle. The product launched, the real work kicked up, and the team is still determining if they can deliver according to the hype and turn things into an enduring company.
Welcome to the startup world!
To solve this uncertainty, I mentioned that the CEO and the other leaders needed to step up their motivational game. The startup was at a possible "go big or go home" moment, so people needed to provide their best energy and execution. There was no time for anything else. But what motivates an average individual employee to do that?
One way is to offer increased compensation. At established companies with large budgets, it can be base salary and bonus increases. At public companies, it can be some form of stock compensation, which has the extended effect of retaining employees until their stocks vest. At newer private companies, especially startups, equity provides upside on a potential exit.
Unfortunately, although everyone might have equity, not everyone will have top-tier equity—maybe not even the top 20% of the company. And if they don't, increasing their equity requires board approval, which would be challenging and potentially unlikely to happen. Any significant or off-cycle base or bonus increase would go through the board if the burn rate and budget even allowed it.
So, I suggested that the CEO and the company's leaders start making empty promises. I do this at work, too, although it is better than it sounds.
Career growth and compensation are naturally frequent topics of discussion within my department. The foundation of my response is similar for everyone. For example, I tell them it's a partnership. I have to make sure they have the right opportunities. They have to execute those opportunities in a way I can sell, and then I have to sell it. I can only do so much if my employees don't reciprocate my efforts.
I also tell them that once we've done the work, I'll do what I can to get them more compensation, a higher rating, or a promotion. But there are a lot of hurdles between them getting their rewards. My peers may back it or contend against it. My boss may accept or reject it. Then, countless other people from HR to finance to others in the direct chain of command might stop it. Perhaps the hurdle is not a person, but the company's performance is lackluster, and that particular performance cycle mirrors it. The company has done well, but the macro-level economics are trending downward. All these things are out of my control and my employee's control.
So what do we do? Give up before we even start?
And this is where the empty promise, or a highly focused promise, comes in. I tell my employees I can't guarantee things I don't control. However, I guarantee that I will work towards giving people the opportunities to grow as an individual and professionally. If they follow my lead and work the process with me, I'll ensure they have exposure to challenging problems, higher-level responsibilities, and growth-expanding experiences. No matter what happens outside our control, I can provide that as long as I still have a job and any form of authority.
From there, I also tell them that if the company or I cannot give them the career growth to match their personal or professional development on the timeline they want, I hold no hard feelings if they find another department or company that will. They must do what they must and shouldn't let anything stop them from their goals. During their growth, they have already paid back the company and myself for whatever value they provided and owe nothing more. Although I hope the company can retain people, sometimes it doesn't happen. I've had plenty of people who have moved on because of this, some of which I still connect and collaborate with.
The situation is the same for personal projects. Instead of setting goals and aspirations that revolve around outcomes out of your control, focus on only things in your control.
The startup's leadership can also address the uncertainty using the same logic. No one can predict whether a startup will succeed or fail. And even if the startup is a success, there are different types of success. Continuously growing so that the individuals can develop their careers is a success for the startup. Everyone being laid off immediately after selling to another company is also a success for the startup. Since career or compensation growth is out of everyone's control, the CEO and leaders of the startup can start giving some empty but focused promises that although career and compensation growth is not guaranteed, if their employees dig in during this crucial moment, they can guarantee to have tremendous growth from a personal and professional perspective.
The experience they gain will help them in their professions and lives, regardless of the outcome.
They are now receiving a lot of interest, seeing sales growth, and a lot of promise in expanding the product beyond the MVP. All are very positive. The predicament they are facing is that after years of developing the product, too many within the company have become somewhat complacent and have lost their fire. They became comfortable with the tinkering and needed to remember the intensity of a do-or-die startup where things are advancing quickly, and the customer is fickle. The product launched, the real work kicked up, and the team is still determining if they can deliver according to the hype and turn things into an enduring company.
Welcome to the startup world!
To solve this uncertainty, I mentioned that the CEO and the other leaders needed to step up their motivational game. The startup was at a possible "go big or go home" moment, so people needed to provide their best energy and execution. There was no time for anything else. But what motivates an average individual employee to do that?
One way is to offer increased compensation. At established companies with large budgets, it can be base salary and bonus increases. At public companies, it can be some form of stock compensation, which has the extended effect of retaining employees until their stocks vest. At newer private companies, especially startups, equity provides upside on a potential exit.
Unfortunately, although everyone might have equity, not everyone will have top-tier equity—maybe not even the top 20% of the company. And if they don't, increasing their equity requires board approval, which would be challenging and potentially unlikely to happen. Any significant or off-cycle base or bonus increase would go through the board if the burn rate and budget even allowed it.
So, I suggested that the CEO and the company's leaders start making empty promises. I do this at work, too, although it is better than it sounds.
Career growth and compensation are naturally frequent topics of discussion within my department. The foundation of my response is similar for everyone. For example, I tell them it's a partnership. I have to make sure they have the right opportunities. They have to execute those opportunities in a way I can sell, and then I have to sell it. I can only do so much if my employees don't reciprocate my efforts.
I also tell them that once we've done the work, I'll do what I can to get them more compensation, a higher rating, or a promotion. But there are a lot of hurdles between them getting their rewards. My peers may back it or contend against it. My boss may accept or reject it. Then, countless other people from HR to finance to others in the direct chain of command might stop it. Perhaps the hurdle is not a person, but the company's performance is lackluster, and that particular performance cycle mirrors it. The company has done well, but the macro-level economics are trending downward. All these things are out of my control and my employee's control.
So what do we do? Give up before we even start?
And this is where the empty promise, or a highly focused promise, comes in. I tell my employees I can't guarantee things I don't control. However, I guarantee that I will work towards giving people the opportunities to grow as an individual and professionally. If they follow my lead and work the process with me, I'll ensure they have exposure to challenging problems, higher-level responsibilities, and growth-expanding experiences. No matter what happens outside our control, I can provide that as long as I still have a job and any form of authority.
From there, I also tell them that if the company or I cannot give them the career growth to match their personal or professional development on the timeline they want, I hold no hard feelings if they find another department or company that will. They must do what they must and shouldn't let anything stop them from their goals. During their growth, they have already paid back the company and myself for whatever value they provided and owe nothing more. Although I hope the company can retain people, sometimes it doesn't happen. I've had plenty of people who have moved on because of this, some of which I still connect and collaborate with.
The situation is the same for personal projects. Instead of setting goals and aspirations that revolve around outcomes out of your control, focus on only things in your control.
The startup's leadership can also address the uncertainty using the same logic. No one can predict whether a startup will succeed or fail. And even if the startup is a success, there are different types of success. Continuously growing so that the individuals can develop their careers is a success for the startup. Everyone being laid off immediately after selling to another company is also a success for the startup. Since career or compensation growth is out of everyone's control, the CEO and leaders of the startup can start giving some empty but focused promises that although career and compensation growth is not guaranteed, if their employees dig in during this crucial moment, they can guarantee to have tremendous growth from a personal and professional perspective.
The experience they gain will help them in their professions and lives, regardless of the outcome.
7.01.2024
#42 | Bring You
Recently, a reader was binge-reading the Boredom blog from start to finish. Then they came to my 3-ish month hiatus from the end of June 2019 to mid-October 2019. They messaged with the following comment: I love how you took the gap in 2019 from June to October. Really shows your human. We all run into life."
My response was: wait until you see my 4+ year sabbatical coming up at the beginning of 2020.
All kidding aside, they touched on a principle I've strived to be a core tenant of my leadership style for the past two years. Around two years ago, I shifted organizations within my company and almost tripled the number of people I managed overnight. Not only did I see that large of an increase in people, but I had helped build up my previous area from nothing, so I knew everyone exceptionally well, and vice versa.
In my new organization, I started working with people who might have superficial knowledge of me with meaningful interactions. That means I had to dig deep into figuring out what type of leader I wanted to be and could practically reinvent myself as needed.
I knew I didn't want to be an unapproachable leader. I entered this company as a senior software engineer, earned promotions, and worked my way up. I was once in their shoes and walked the same path as them. I knew a lot of their pains and frustrations. I wanted them to know that and to sense that by how I presented myself and interacted with them. Saying it wasn't enough, I had to live it. An unapproachable leadership style frequently leads to a tone-deaf and ivory-tower dynamic. Maintaining chain of command and leadership hierarchies is possible without sacrificing approachability.
I also didn't want to be overly stoic. That is a common trait I see with older or higher-up leadership styles. Emotions don't exist, and neither do faults or mistakes. I am perfect, and you should be too. No thanks. It's exhausting to maintain that front at all times, and it is also a great morale killer. As the head of any team, the team's culture will likely mimic your own. Showing emotions; disappointment and frustration, excitement and hope, and everything else in between; doesn't weaken the team. Showing weaknesses and mistakes doesn't magnify our faults. Showing our emotions, flaws, and errors allows us to be stronger as individuals or as a team as we address them.
I wanted to be inclusive. Obnoxious and toxic "tech bros" fill the tech industry. However, the tech industry is common; any large community can tend to homogenize. That's not how I want to surround myself. I grew up in a very diverse neighborhood. I have enjoyed having friends from all walks of life. One of the most appealing parts of traveling is to immerse myself as much as possible in local customs, activities, and people. Diversity strengthens us by bringing in all these unique perspectives to ensure we miss nothing.
There were many other traits that I did or didn't want to exhibit, but they all sum up into a single word: authentic.
Robots and AI have yet to take over. We still run things. We all make mistakes, burn out, and have unconscious biases. We are all human. We should embrace this part of ourselves, strengthening us as we acknowledge, analyze, and address our humanity—not just in leadership but in our everyday lives and in all of our social interactions with our colleagues, family, and friends.
If the leader is authentic, those around them will also feel more comfortable dropping the mask and being authentic.
My response was: wait until you see my 4+ year sabbatical coming up at the beginning of 2020.
All kidding aside, they touched on a principle I've strived to be a core tenant of my leadership style for the past two years. Around two years ago, I shifted organizations within my company and almost tripled the number of people I managed overnight. Not only did I see that large of an increase in people, but I had helped build up my previous area from nothing, so I knew everyone exceptionally well, and vice versa.
In my new organization, I started working with people who might have superficial knowledge of me with meaningful interactions. That means I had to dig deep into figuring out what type of leader I wanted to be and could practically reinvent myself as needed.
I knew I didn't want to be an unapproachable leader. I entered this company as a senior software engineer, earned promotions, and worked my way up. I was once in their shoes and walked the same path as them. I knew a lot of their pains and frustrations. I wanted them to know that and to sense that by how I presented myself and interacted with them. Saying it wasn't enough, I had to live it. An unapproachable leadership style frequently leads to a tone-deaf and ivory-tower dynamic. Maintaining chain of command and leadership hierarchies is possible without sacrificing approachability.
I also didn't want to be overly stoic. That is a common trait I see with older or higher-up leadership styles. Emotions don't exist, and neither do faults or mistakes. I am perfect, and you should be too. No thanks. It's exhausting to maintain that front at all times, and it is also a great morale killer. As the head of any team, the team's culture will likely mimic your own. Showing emotions; disappointment and frustration, excitement and hope, and everything else in between; doesn't weaken the team. Showing weaknesses and mistakes doesn't magnify our faults. Showing our emotions, flaws, and errors allows us to be stronger as individuals or as a team as we address them.
I wanted to be inclusive. Obnoxious and toxic "tech bros" fill the tech industry. However, the tech industry is common; any large community can tend to homogenize. That's not how I want to surround myself. I grew up in a very diverse neighborhood. I have enjoyed having friends from all walks of life. One of the most appealing parts of traveling is to immerse myself as much as possible in local customs, activities, and people. Diversity strengthens us by bringing in all these unique perspectives to ensure we miss nothing.
There were many other traits that I did or didn't want to exhibit, but they all sum up into a single word: authentic.
Robots and AI have yet to take over. We still run things. We all make mistakes, burn out, and have unconscious biases. We are all human. We should embrace this part of ourselves, strengthening us as we acknowledge, analyze, and address our humanity—not just in leadership but in our everyday lives and in all of our social interactions with our colleagues, family, and friends.
If the leader is authentic, those around them will also feel more comfortable dropping the mask and being authentic.
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