250 years in, democracy still matters. Click to upvote the ones that resonate and please share.

        

Said no one, ever. At least not the consumers I know.

When a careless woodworker loses a digit on a table saw, they almost certainly blame the design and instructions of the device, not their lack of care.

On a less gruesome note, the user who fails to read the website before ordering, the instructions before using, or the interface before clicking is unlikely to associate good things with an interaction that failed because of their own lack of care.

The more people interact with you, the more your brand and reputation are at risk.

There are three sorts of operator errors to consider:

1. The design of your product or the power of your service allows people to do something they’ll later regret.
2. Confusion in the user experience permits avoidable errors to occur.
3. You surprise users by amplifying their choice and impact when they aren’t prepared or qualified.

One alternative is to prepare your responses and excuses in advance. “Buyer beware!” “RTFM!” “Sorry.”

It might be more productive to limit how people interact with your products and services. To design operator error out of the process. A few people saying, “it didn’t let me do everything I wanted, the way I wanted,” is better than, “it let me break it (or me).”

Letting your clients fail may give them a sense of agency, but it might not be the best way to make the impact you seek with your work.

Great design leads to a better user experience. And “No.” is a complete sentence.

        

When we choose to avoid the conversations that make us uncomfortable, we’re pedaling in the dark.

Talk about it. Turn on the lights.

        

The big man said it.

The book said it.

The newspaper said it.

I saw a photo.

I saw it on TV.

I read it on the internet.

That’s what the AI said.

There has always been room for doubt. But the last century has been about doubt at scale, due to mismatched incentives and the impact of media and tech.

84% of the statistics we read are manipulated for impact. And every story, every narrative, every photo is curated and edited. The map is not the territory, and the map maker has a goal. It might be the same as yours–but it might not be.

One danger is that a story not worth believing lets us off the hook. The other is that it manipulates us into taking action we’ll regret.

It’s impossible to function in society without consuming stories. You’re never going to the moon, and the only way it’s possible to know it’s not made of green cheese is to find a story you can inspect and trust, one that, if you drill down far enough, is based on things you can engage with in real life.

People in society are often driven by the desire to believe what everyone else in their circle believes–people like us do things like this. But the change agent has the desire to be early in embracing ideas that others don’t believe (yet).

The difference between poison and medicine often comes down to the dosage. Belief at scale, fueled by omnipresent media designed to seduce, is unlikely to help us get to where we seek to go.

A coherent culture is often built on a shared belief system. When the entire group believes something that collides with reality, though, reality wins.

In the long run, the Earth doesn’t care what you believe. Eppur si muove.

        

And, now and then, it’s fun to find something better. In the scheme of things, fancy foods are a bargain, a chance to have the best in the world for a few dollars.

Here are some persistent (and new) favorites. For those outside the US, I hope you can find even better local options.

Koeze makes the best peanut butter in the country. They make one batch a day, laboriously grinding for three hours. Zingermans often has it at a bulk discount.

Seed & Mill has a chocolate tahini sauce that’s mind-blowing. Imagine Nutella, but 10x better and just the good parts. Her cookbook is great, too.

Burlap & Barrel offers cardamom extract that will transform a glass of bubbly water into a sophisticated refresher.

Three chocolates from South America, from the rare porcelana bean and its cousins:

• Heinde Verre offers two related varietals in one comparison pack.
• Orfeve makes a nearly perfect sophisticated bar.
• And Idilio offers one that’s unforgettable.

Summer sophistication and deliciousness are easy with a good shaker. You put whatever you want to drink (I steam 100% cacao with oat milk) over ice and then shake and pour. I was a skeptic on this, but I’m converted.

Rishi Dandelion Ginger. Extraordinary and surprising. And most things taste better mixed with tonic.

Life’s too short for average vinegar. The good stuff lasts a long time and costs not much more.

Raw almonds in the air fryer for 15 minutes at 340 degrees F. Not just healthier–quite good. Perfect with dried plums.

If you’re in Manhattan, check in the comments for when he’s open, then go have a dosa.

And their slogan might be true: These are the best dates.

        

“People like us do things like this,” is a useful definition of culture. But which things? Billions of people believe things you don’t, are unaware of things that are easily demonstrated, or simply don’t care.

When you decide to reach the masses, you’ve made a significant (and probably fruitless) choice.

        

Restaurants have regulars (backlist) and new patrons. Broadway shows are attended by people who see three to ten shows a year, as well as folks going to their very first production. Supermarkets sell staples (like milk and bananas) as well as new products. Software companies, farmers, even rock stars have backlist items.

Today’s post is the frontlist of the blog, the other 10,000 posts are the backlist.

Two things are true, in a surprising juxtaposition:

1. Publishers spend almost all their time on the new books. The frontlist gets attention from editors, marketers, salespeople, publicists, and the rest of the team.
2. More than 100% of their profit comes from the backlist.

That’s not a typo. Every viable publishing house loses money on the frontlist. They do it to build a backlist. to create a catalog that pays the bills over time.

The confusion starts with the name.

Let’s call it what it is. The foundation list is the backbone of the organization and the engine for sustainability and profits.

And the experimental list is just that. A chance to invest in things that aren’t sure to work (because no one knows anything for sure about the future), with a focus on adding to the foundation list.

Now that the confusion is cleared up, we can make smarter decisions about how to spend our time and invest our resources.

Make your experiments actual experiments.

Devote time and money and focus to your foundation.

Improving your foundation always pays off. And being bold with your experimental list is easier once you call it an experiment.

        

For example, “You belong here” is not a positioning statement for a college seeking new students. It’s just noise.

It also doesn’t help to mix weasel words with more weasel words and then add specifics. On charity’s pitch: “Your contribution can help up to 35 people.”

“Up to” covers a lot of ground, doesn’t it?

It’s true that the copy we use can be noisy decoration, not often read or fully understood. But that doesn’t mean we shouldn’t put in the effort to make it useful and powerful.

        

It’s not easy. It means you understand their goals, see them for who they are and care enough about their work to amplify it.

That’s why filling in the missing piece with a complement is worth much more than an empty platitude or compliment.

        

It’s tempting to upgrade your computer processor, your frying pan or your sneakers as well.

The thing is, once the foundational tools are good enough, technique and training outperform hardware. New snow tires are often more effective than a new car at getting to work, because traction matters more than horsepower.

Sharpening your saw or building resilience might be the best way to improve.