Category Archives: Problem Practices

Communication behavior or analysis that is often counter-productive

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The Software Shuffle

There’s an art to setting up online forms that are responsive and adaptable.

Anyone that works or does business with an organization—pretty much all of us—face an almost daily task that would have been unknown a generation ago. Not only do we use computers, and often depend on them for the payment of bills and the submission of forms and applications. We also no get the flip-side effects of messages we no longer control.  The requirement to use a group’s proprietary software in order to complete even the simplest transaction is so common we hardly notice. But sometimes the smaller the business, the more the software has you wandering into the weeds.

There’s an art to setting up online forms that are responsive and adaptable. Bad software is typically written to meet the needs of the makers rather than those on the receiving end.  Good software works on the principle of convenience.  Ever notice how easy it is to buy something on Amazon?

Software is the last to know when it’s stupid.

I am now regularly invited to meetings via an official looking Google form that lets me state my intention with a “Yes,” “No”, or “Maybe.” You probably get them as well.  My frustration is that there’s no space to communicate anything more meaningful.  Just this morning I was sent such a form announcing the cancellation of a meeting, but still inviting me to respond “Yes,” “No,” or “Maybe.”  I pushed the green “Yes” button, but didn’t know what I was actually “saying.” Was it: “Yes! do cancel the damn meeting for sure; I’m glad to have the time back?” Or: “Yes, thank God someone came to their senses.” But what would a “No” mean?  Perhaps “I’m going anyway, just to soak up the silence in the otherwise empty room?”  Or, “No, and that was a career-busting mistake to call it off?”  Then there’s the middle option: “‘Maybe’ I’ll think about not going to the cancelled meeting.”  These responses pose quandaries inside of quandaries worthy of a diagram that looks like a ballpark pretzel.

Software “for interfacing with consumers” is designed with closed-ended options. Most of it converts the human experience into a set of comparative numbers, making all of us less aware and savvy. This is the result of a general overreach for quantification. Results of a questionnaire or an application for services seem to require simple responses so that the organizational chain never has to deal with the natural variability of human understanding.  Put simply, open ended questions don’t “code well.”  They require a listener/reader on the other end: a bigger stretch than some organizations want to make.

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Singing For The Sharks

 MGM-Sony-Streisand Scoring Stage in Los Angeles

Think of a restaurant you’ve stumbled in to where it turns out that all of the staff are trained in intellectual property litigation. Get ready to argue over the amount of the tip. 

Research on a book project has recently taken me to the far and cavernous precincts of music licensing, with topics like copyrighting songs, payment to play music in businesses, and collecting royalties from others who perform ‘covers.’  I have only one word for the experience of wading in to this byzantine subject:  Yikes!  My advice is that if you have the urge to sing in the shower, for your own good it would be good to do it sotto voce.  Anyone could be listening.  And you could be in even more hot water for not clearing the song with the publisher, a record company, or the performance rights organization that represents the songwriter.

No wonder there has been a spate of recent stories about the questionable mental health of musicians trying to survive within the music industry.  It’s an enviable goal to build a career in music.  But it is clearly not for the faint of heart.  Think of a restaurant you’ve stumbled into where it turns out that all of the staff are trained in intellectual property litigation. It may not be your best meal.  And the tip will be a matter of contention.

All of these is both a surprise and a disappointment, since music remains one of the happier experiences of living our lives.  It’s little wonder that the legendary Quincy Jones–the composer, musician and world-class producer–thinks of the business side of his work as a “disaster.”

Taylor Swift has recently been doing battle with her record label and publisher, Big Machine.  They own her masters and the copyrights to most of her older music, and she wants them back.  With some justification her label argues that they invested heavily in her when she was a young teen starting out.  But now, buying back the rights to her music outright–if she succeeds–with probably run into a few hundred million dollars.  In the meantime, she’s released a music video to torment her music-mogul opponents, Scooter Braun and Scott Borchetta.

To be sure, Ms. Swift will land on her feet.  She has loyal and vocal fans.  And it’s certainly easier to admire her as a performer than a relatively faceless investment firm, the Carlyle Group, which has an interest in Big Machine.  In addition, music lovers also love to hate record labels.  It seems like it has always been that way at least since the days of Napster.  The big music groups that own the labels are often seen as taking over copyrights representing the labor of their very human musical “partners,” only to fail to deliver the promotion and success they promised in exchange.

Swift has obviously done well with Big Machine, but she wants more control of what and where she performs. However, a more typical case is perhaps the jazz/classical cellist, Zoe Keating, who is continually underwhelmed by her annual royalty statement from Spotify–now the largest streamer in the music business.  According to The Guardian, in 2018 she received all of $0.0054 per play from the streaming service.  Still, Spotify complains that they can’t make any real money.

It’s obvious only the biggest mega-stars receive royalties sufficient to live on. Most need to tour relentlessly, where ticket and incidental sales of extras can net enough income to get by.

Many of us are fascinated by this industry because its products are often so great.  But it seems to resemble something like a big and colorful aquarium: better to enjoy it from the outside than to swim with the sharks inside.