Honoring Your Criteria

While cleaning out my filing cabinet this past weekend I came across something curious and useful!

I had thoughtfully labeled all of my tax receipts with a destruction date to make it easy for my future self. Now, as my future self, I stared at years of backlog. I had receipts dating back to 2008! After silently giving my past self lots of praise for this courtesy, my curiosity heightened. Why hadn’t I listened? Why was I only now, in 2024, tossing these envelopes into the shred bin?

The experience reminded me of one I had in my early days as a Records Manager. One summer I was tasked to clean out what we fondly called, “The Room of Doom.” A sub-level storage unit in a nearby office building housed over 1000 boxes of records for the company. The story of how it ended up there was long and sordid. But my job was to get rid of everything in mere months due to a sudden and dramatic change to the rent.

My summer student and I, attired in hazmat suits, masks, and little white booties, trudged to the unit three times a week.

It was unbelievably dusty and dank. Box by box, row by row, we went through everything. What struck me most about this exercise was how many hundreds of boxes had been labeled “destroy yyyy.” It was 2010, but the overwhelming majority of dates were from the early 2000’s. Essentially, similar to my own home scenario, except involving hundreds of boxes rather than a few envelopes. As I went through row after row of boxes, the persistent question of “why didn’t they just destroy the records as indicated?” kept floating around my brain. And now, 14 years later, why didn’t I?

Here are a few possible answers:

  1. Once things are out of sight, i.e., in a filing cabinet drawer or cavernous sub-level storage unit, it’s easy to forget about them.
  2. Ample storage space eliminates the urgency and drive to get rid of things.
  3. Lack of a strong routine.
  4. While I find purging immensely satisfying, not everybody does. Going through documents can be tedious.

However, regardless of the underlying reason, it’s important to honor your criteria. When going through my files, I neither questioned nor hesitated the decision I made years ago to destroy. I confidently tossed all the envelopes right into the shred bin.

Lists and Why We Love Them

I thoroughly enjoyed listening to “Lists” on This American Life. As a life-long list maker, I could relate to the topic and the stories. Lists are so heavily incorporated into my daily life, I rarely stop to consider their significance. In essence, they’re kind of basic. Yet, we all seem to use them for one thing or another. What is it about a list that makes them so effective, so popular, and so enduring?

In my entire life, I’ve never had to explain, or teach anyone, how to use a list. They’re self-explanatory. This is a strong selling point for those of us in the pro-list camp. We rely on all kinds of lists to get through our daily lives. These lists include grocery lists, task lists, invitation lists, decision lists, and packing lists to name a few. I even have a list in one of my apps called “Shopping” that contains smaller lists for specific stores with a checklist of items I need from each one. Lists within a list.

There’s something innately satisfy about crossing off completed tasks from my to-do lists. Sometimes I even add finished tasks that weren’t originally on the list solely to have the satisfaction of crossing them out. It also gives me a sense of how much I’ve actually accomplished.

Equally satisfying is giving something a “home” to rest in a list. All of a sudden, that random thought belongs somewhere. For example, I keep a list of Deletist posting ideas. In fact, I have more than one list for jotting down future blog ideas. Lists provide a safe spot to remember things. They can securely contain that question, or those grocery items, provided we remember where that safe place is and remember to look at it when we need to.

Where lists get messy for me is when I try to combine different aspects. For example, I want tasks grouped by project, but then also have the ability to rearrange them by priority, status, or deadline without a lot of manual effort. I’ve explored some task management apps, but they always end up being more work than pen and paper. Besides, it’s inherently more satisfying to strike the item than any of the digital options available.

I’m sure one day I’ll find the perfect system. Until then, I’m maintaining a wish list of all the things I want it to do.

How to Use the Phone

Shortly after publishing last week’s post, “Everything But the Phone…” I discovered some people don’t know how to use it. By “it” I mean the phone part of the smartphone. The part that’s used to dial another person’s phone number and have a conversation. While some people may not like using the phone to communicate, it never occurred to me that they wouldn’t know how. Using the phone to make a call feels like one of those foundational and rudimentary basic communication skills. Yet, I was listening to a consultant speak on the morning radio program about how he works with clients who don’t know how to make or receive calls.

This week I heard another radio segment of an interview with a Gen Z worker who also didn’t know how to use the phone. Or at least didn’t use it regularly. I think part of the challenge arose from having to speak to someone in real time without seeing them. I’m sure this is quite different from what the younger generation does.

I grew up with the phone being a primary form of communication, along with in-person interactions. Added to this was the analog version of social media, i.e., passing notes to one another. Some of the notes had very elaborate folding techniques. We used a wide range of paper options. We hand-wrote everything, since accessing computers with printers and typing messages was not the norm. I included a picture of these notes in one of my first ever blog posts “Getting Rid of Clutter.”

Even though how I use the phone has changed dramatically in many ways I’m not afraid to call someone. In fact, sometimes it’s even quicker, more efficient, and more convenient. For example, if I have to change a service or I need additional information. In these instances, I find the chatbots providing help are pretty useless.

However, on the personal side, I’m less likely to call a friend without first messaging to confirm they’re available. Another annoying habit I have is to follow up on a voicemail with a message or email. Replying in writing can sometimes be easier. People can receive, read, or respond to an email or message at any time of day. Whereas calls typically happen in a smaller timeframe.

It seems the phone, in some shape or form, is here to stay. So I better keep my skills honed.

Everything But the Phone…

I rarely think twice about calling my smartphone a phone. Though every once in a while, I pause, thinking about what exactly my phone has become. Sometimes it feels strange to call it a phone, when it seems to do everything except act like an actual phone!

What exactly am I carrying around in my pocket all day?

  • A news source
  • Internet connection with access to all kinds of resources
  • Communication (audio, visual, and written)
  • Music
  • Books (audio and electronic)
  • Podcasts
  • Movies
  • Camera
  • Banking
  • Shopping
  • Calendar and Organizing
  • And so much more!

No wonder we’re on our “phones” so much. They do everything for us. And we do everything on them. How did the humble phone transform into a pocket-sized device for everything, but still retain the same name? If I think back to the phone I grew up with the two things aren’t even comparable. My childhood phone had rotary dial. A short, curly cord came out of the base, literally tethering me to the device. It was heavy with a chunky receiver and only came in plain, solid colors. Soon push buttons replaced the rotary dial, then cordless capabilities. Eventually the phone became mobile, but how it morphed into the mini computers and cameras is somewhat astonishing.

Before I got my first smartphone, I couldn’t understand why people were on them so much. They are fascinating and distracting, but I didn’t realize how reliant we would be on them for everything. It must seem strange to children why adults on on their phones so much. For today’s kids “being on the phone” means something totally different than it did for me. As a kid, I spent hours on the phone chatting with my friends late into the night. Along with the rotary phones and new-age push-buttons, we also didn’t initially have things like “call-waiting”, where another call could break through. Or forward to voice mail. Instead, the person calling would get a busy signal. Nothing else. No other options existed to reach someone since we didn’t have email, social media, texting, or messaging. Somehow, we still managed to reach each other, make plans, hang out, and connect.

When we get the next generation of devices, which I’m sure will be implanted in our bodies or brains somehow, will we still call them phones? Or add “smart” to the front of whatever we call it?

Maintaining Momentum

Tasked with several large scale, clean-up projects and somewhat urgent repairs, I’m finding it hard to stay focused. Where to start? How to prioritize? And most importantly, how to maintain the momentum once I get going?

With the amount of backlog crushing in, finding and maintaining a foothold feels daunting. At times my pace seems glacial. Alongside the pace is the sensation of never making progress anywhere. This sentiment persists, despite accomplishing a number of tasks. Time slowed as we stumbled through the pandemic. It feels like a bad and distant (two-year long) afterthought, except for all the things that kept piling up during the dark times. Though I should confess, some of the work bogging me down is self-inflicted.

For example, this summer I decided to transform the entire backyard into an oasis of native, pollinator-friendly plants. The catch is that I don’t enjoy long hours of gardening. And I’m more than a little clueless. Of course I could have planned the work in sections, but every year the invasive species remain, they get stronger, thicker, and denser. My solution, thus far, has been to work in small installments when I can. And outsource what I can afford to the professionals.

Other projects, however, are critical and require immediate care. Last fall my nose twitched madly at the rank odor of mold in the house. After some olfactory sleuthing we discovered the culprit, a leaky basement window. Naturally, this necessitated prompt action resulting in the removal of all the moldy parts from the affected room. The warming weather prompted me to start the long process of securing a contractor to get the window fixed. Since the pace is slow waiting for people to respond and prepare assessments, it’s easy to let this vital project slip a little. Also, the window is in the far corner of the basement and it doesn’t smell like mold anymore.

Lately my strategy is to sprint when I can. As soon as I have a bit of free time and energy, I set the timer for at least 20 minutes, crank up the tunes, and work like crazy. When I can’t devote time to physical work, I take mental notes. Then plan out my next major task when the time is available. It gets frustrating with so many starts and stops, but slowly I’m seeing a few signs of improvement.

Double-Edged Ethics of AI

I recently read a letter to The Ethicist in the New York Times, “Can I Use A.I. to Grade My Students’ Papers?”. For the writer, the dilemma stemmed from restricting students to use Artificial Intelligence (AI) to write papers, yet use AI to grade the papers. Would that be a double standard?

The teacher made efforts to prevent students from using AI to write the papers. One strategy was to break up the assignment into different working sessions. Some of the sessions were during class time. However, the teacher could still tell some students managed to use AI for the final version. After making efforts to prevent students from using AI, could this teacher benefit from the technology for help with grading?

Last month I faced my own AI dilemma while hiring for two student positions. I received dozens of applicants for both openings. One position had over 100 applicants. I received a nearly 400-page compiled pdf for some of the resumes. Naturally, the time to review and shortlist candidates was short. Plus, who has time to manually review that many. Skimming through cover letters and resumes, I started to get a feel for which ones had been AI-generated vs. customized by hand. One stretch of cover letters were nearly identical, perhaps because they all used the same AI platform and prompt. Would it have been unethical for me to use AI to screen candidates if they were using AI to craft cover letters and maybe even resumes?

Although not quite the same as the teacher’s dilemma, it made me pause. Candidates aren’t forbidden from using AI. For some candidates, it might even help them. As the hiring manager, it meant I had a lot of boring letters to skim. Using AI may have made it easy for some students to apply, resulting in an increase of applicants. But the real question is, would AI have been good at detecting the top candidates? The only way to find out is to try it!

As for the teacher, The Ethicist didn’t find any issue in using AI to grade papers, provided the AI did a good job. The students needed to learn how to think critically and write. The teacher, however, already knew how to grade papers. Using AI to do something the teacher already mastered would leave time available to prepare something different for the students.