Being here, being there

Mike Champion raises an interesting point that applies to Microsoft but also more broadly:

The culture at MS is very F2F-oriented…if you’re out of sight, you have to work hard not to be out of mind.

But then he adds:

Geographic distance will help keep you from getting sucked into the groupthink of whatever group you’re in. Microsoft collectively needs to be constantly reminded what the world looks like to people whose view isn’t fogged up by our typical drizzle or distracted by the scenery on the sunny days.

We’re entering an era in which our personal, social, and professional lives are increasingly network-mediated. Trust-at-a-distance is a new possibility, with economic ramifications that everyone from Yochai Benkler to Jim Russell is trying to figure out. As someone who’s worked remotely for 8 years, and is about to work remotely for a company with relatively few remote employees, this question is extremely interesting to me.

On the one hand, I’ve learned that I can accomplish a lot because I spend an abormal percentage of my waking hours in flow rather than in meetings. I’ve also learned that network-mediated interactions can be more productive than F2F interactions. Consider my August screencast with Jim Hugunin, or my May screencast with Anders Hejlsberg, or indeed any of the other screencasts in that series. They’re all scheduled events, mediated by telephone and screensharing. I can’t see how physical colocation would improve them.

On the other hand, there’s the “watercooler” effect: being in a place, you see and hear and smell things that aren’t otherwise transmitted through the network. I have no doubt whatsoever that shared physical space matters in ways we can’t begin to describe or understand.

But as collaboration in shared virtual space takes its rightful place alongside collaboration in shared physical space, shouldn’t a company whose products are key enablers of virtual collaboration be eating its own dogfood?

Of course things are never as black-and-white as they appear. So I’m going to bookmark this posting and return to it in six months. Hopefully by then I’ll know more about the value of being here and of being there.

Turning 50

It’s been an unusual week. On December 3 I turned 50. On Dec 8 I announced that I’m leaving InfoWorld and joining Microsoft. It’s not a coincidence. When I saw 50 looming, a couple of years ago, I started to get really clear about what I want to do with the next 25. I’ve been laying out the vision to anyone who will listen, and I’ll continue to do so here, but first things first. Yesterday’s announcement left a couple of questions unasked and unaswered, so without further ado:

Q: Are you relocating to Redmond?

A: No. I’ll continue to work from my home office in New Hampshire. At first I’ll be spending maybe one week in four in Redmond, because there’s a lot of connecting to do. In the long run I may wind up traveling almost that much, but I hope to locations elsewhere than Redmond as often as not.

In January, for example, I’ll be speaking at Techology, Knowledge, and Society in Cambridge UK. And in May, at GOVIS in New Zealand. As was true for my recent talks in Guadalajara and Ann Arbor, I don’t expect to encounter any Silicon Valley regulars at these events. I do expect to give and to receive important insights about how people everywhere can use infotech to further their occupational, educational, personal, social, and civic agendas.

Q: What will happen to your archive?

A: I’ve experienced namespace disruption before, and am very keen to avoid it this time around. Fortunately it’s in InfoWorld’s best interest to preserve my blog archive. Worst case, the material will be rehosted because nobody else at InfoWorld uses Radio UserLand anymore. In that case, I’ve offered to help redirect the current namespace to a different one. I’m keeping my fingers crossed, but I hope there won’t be a problem.

Q: Why would you work for them? Not since Standard Oil has such a brutal vicious rapacious thuggish company with such power existed.

A: That question, in private email from someone I deeply respect, reminded me that yesterday’s Q and A left some important things unsaid. In particular, although I mentioned Ray Ozzie and Kim Cameron and Jean Paoli and Jim Hugunin and JJ Allaire, I egregiously failed to mention such equally important folks as:

Tim Fahlberg, who wants to use screencasting to reinvent math education, and who was thrilled that I picked up on his mission and amplified it in InfoWorld, but who because of that only gained a tiny bit more of the exposure he deserves.

Dan Thomas, who’s pumping the operational data of city government out onto the web where, despite all my efforts so far, nobody except me sees that it’s there or imagines what to do with it.

Mike Frost, who’s building out a version of the energy web today instead of waiting for government to never do it.

To these stories I’ll add my own NHPR commentaries about online-map-enabled community work, rediscovery of the local library, and the social capital we can build when we work from home.

My proposal was to be an evangelist for the Net, to continue discovering and telling these kinds of stories, and to use them as the framework within which to explore and explain Microsoft’s current and emerging technologies.

When I met with Jeff Sandquist I had just finished this podcast with Jim Russell. It’s a story about migration and the mobility of intellectual capital, refracted through Jim’s experience with the Pittsburgh diaspora. Neither Microsoft’s nor any other vendor’s technologies are discussed. I’m certain that the ideas Jim lays out in this podcast will inspire new business models for social software, but it’s all rather speculative.

I explained to Jeff that it had taken me most of a day to interview Jim Russell, then edit our rambling two-hour discussion down to something more coherent. And I said: “Reality check, you’re OK with that?” He said yes. I do not regard that answer as evidence of thuggishness or rapaciousness. I regard it as a sign of enlightenment, and I am calibrating my expectations accordingly.