Three Things #6: Feb. 20, 2022
Love from ETHDenver
Keeping things short and sweet this week as it’s been a crazy few days at ETHDenver. I’m not sure how I managed to find any time to write this week, but I did, and since I write what’s on my mind, this week’s content is heavily inspired by what I saw and experienced in Denver.
Thing #1: An Artisan Revival
When we use the term “artisan” today, it’s usually used as a marketing buzzword to suggest that something premium mediocre was somehow “handcrafted” (as opposed to mass produced in a factory). In other words, the term has been colonized by hipsters who tend to use it ironically (like, oh, I don’t know, artisan lettuce?).
But there used to be real artisans. There was a brief period of time in the 18th-19th centuries, roughly between independence and the Industrial Revolution, when master craftsmen dominated many trades in the United States. These artisans had a direct, personal relationship with all of their customers, and they ran their own businesses, so they weren’t workers or manual laborers in the modern sense of those terms. They set their own hours, worked as much or as little as they chose, and could be picky about whom they did business with. It was normal for an artisan to take time off work to, e.g., focus on family or health, or just to pursue other interests.
This style of production disappeared around the time of the Industrial Revolution, when production became dominated by large firms, big factories, and continental shipping. During the Industrial Revolution, many workers began complaining that they felt as if they were “part of the machinery” of these factories, which had a dehumanizing effect and served to separate the workers from the product of their labor, and from the ultimate customer.
As I ponder the future of work, and pay closer attention to trends in the labor market, I feel like we may be entering a new age of artisanry. The term is traditionally used to refer to the production of material goods, but I don’t see why it can’t be used to refer to knowledge work as well, such as writing, design, or software. I know a lot of people who are really good at what they do, who aren’t interested in working full time or exclusively for one company. Increasingly, the best and most talented people are not interested in being employees. They tend to either start their own companies/projects, or else do some combination of consulting, advising, and investing for a portfolio of projects. What is this if not a new form of artisanry? Shouldn’t we be celebrating this? How do we need to change existing work, commerce, and benefits (such as health insurance) to account for this trend?
I’m absolutely fascinated by the history, and the future, of work. Expect to see more about it in this space.
Thing #2: On Intense Conference Weeks
I’m a different person at conferences. I hardly recognize myself. When I’m home, I maximize time with family and close friends, and optimize for work, workout, and mindfulness. I rarely meet new people and I stick to the same routine every day. When I’m on the road, the rules are totally different. I still manage to do the most critical stuff—meditation, running, speaking to family, sleep, eating well—but only barely. Everything else goes out the window. My schedule and routine completely change. I go to bed later, wake up later, sleep less, don’t read at all, barely workout, and I’m 1000% more social. I do things I would never do at home, and I do things I didn’t know I could do. At the end of a long day of running around to constant meetings and conversations, of throwing together a talk in the last minute in the back of a room with tons of noise around me, I look at myself in the mirror and I’m shocked, I barely recognize myself and I can’t believe what I just did. Sometimes I do the same at the end of an intense week and the effect is even stronger.
It’s amazing how flexible and adaptable we are. I wouldn’t imagine that I could go 16, 18, sometimes even 24+ hours in intense, full on social and professional mode, on barely any sleep, and be okay at the end of it. Then go to bed and wake up and do it all again a few hours later. Or that I could go without food for hours and be just fine. Burning Man and intense conference weeks feel like this.
I once spent two months doing a very intense social, academic, and professional program abroad. I slept only 3-4 hours every night because there was just so much to do: so many amazing people to spend time with and get to know, so many places to explore. I still remember, just barely, what it felt like at the end when I finally caught up on sleep. After sleeping for a day or two, I woke up, and the world suddenly had color again.
I think we also need to cheat from time to time. We need to break from our routine and try something totally different. It’s one way of learning and growing and understanding who we are and what we’re capable of. Routine is safe, comfortable, and productive but we all need some adventure too. Finding that balance is hard, and it’s something I’m still working on.
Thing #3: IRL FTW
A big part of my job is something that’s hard to describe but I’ll call it awareness: being aware of the people and projects that are the most significant and most relevant, and seeing and understanding connections among people, projects, and technologies. This is sort of possible to do from home but doing it well requires hitting the road and attending events. Events are the best way to cut through marketing nonsense and understand what’s really going on. You get all sorts of social cues from the metadata at an in person event: who’s there and who isn’t, who’s on stage and who isn’t, how people and projects present themselves, how people orient themselves and interact, how they choose to spend their money, etc. None of this is visible online.
There are a couple of ways to look at these events. On one level they are sort of a waste of time and money. Especially money. It’s incredible to see how people and projects spend money at these events, from expensive flights and hotels, to nightclubs, to venues, to food and drink, to swag (which seems to be getting fancier and more expensive every year—one team gave out $600 jackets at ETHDenver this year!). They’re sort of a social circus, with people strutting and flexing and shows of wealth, power, and influence. In this respect, they’re fascinating when viewed objectively, through a social lens.
On another level, though, there is something important brewing and the noise and blatant shows of wealth are just unimportant side effects. It’s just how this community and economy operates, for now, for better or worse. This is my tribe and, as much as I may find aspects of it distasteful, I will defend to the death your right to act silly and distastefully. You can’t hope to understand a community without spending time with that community in person. For all of our flaws, I think the crypto community is a good community. We’re in it for the right reasons, even if we don’t always achieve our aims—or haven’t, quite yet. The energy, excitement, and enthusiasm at these events keep me coming back for more every time.
Any ecosystem, community, or industry is, at the end of the day, nothing more than the sum total of the people that contribute to it, the shared story we tell, and the things we choose to spend our time on. There is a shared story being told here, just emerging, and it’s worth paying attention to. You have to have some skin in the game, in terms of showing up, to hear and be a part of this story. Together, we’re engaged in a sort of dance, borrowing each others’ ideas, recombining them, and building on top of them. This is how any society or culture is built, gradually, organically, brick by brick.
I’m excited about the story we’re telling and where we’re going together. We have a lot of work still to do, but the amount of mainstream interest over the past year and the number, diversity, and energy of the people in Denver this week are testament to how far we’ve come and to how many lives we’ve already touched. And we’re just getting started.