Instant analysis and reaction from the front line. At every conference I go to there are always a few people in the audience, laptops open, screens glowing eerily in the half-darkness, blogging away in real-time while speakers strut their stuff on stage. I’m in two minds about this. On one hand, I love the energy and insights that come from an instant reaction. I’ve read these real-time blogs and the best ones are sharp and profound. But sometimes I wonder how much these nimble-fingered bloggers are really getting out of the speeches – are they picking up all the shades of meaning, the different layers of the message? Might they see, hear and understand more if they gave their full attention to the speech, and then blogged a few minutes, hours or even days afterwards? Maybe what we need is a blend of fast blogging and slow blogging. One blogger has already come to that conclusion. Her name is Michele Bowman and you can read her thoughts on slow blogging by clickingHERE.
Month: October 2007
Rational exuberance
I’ve just heard that Alan Greenspan, the former chairman of the US Federal Reserve, wrote 85% of his new book in the bathtub. Soaking in a hot bath is the ultimate form of slow. Greenspan says that he does his best writing, reading and thinking in the tub. I know the feeling. I love a slow bath at the end of the day. And a lot of my best ideas come while watching the children’s rubber ducks bob among the bubbles.
Slow Reading
I love that Woody Allen joke where he says: “I took a speed reading course. We read War and Peace. It’s about Russia.” So much of the beauty, texture and meaning of a text gets lost when we read in a hurry. And that may be why Slow reading is in the ascendant. Toning down the speed means you get more pleasure and comprehension from the text. Apparently the earliest reference to slow reading is from Nietzsche in 1887. ClickHEREto read a fascinating and thoughtful Wikipedia entry on the subject. It was notwritten by me.
Slow prayer
I gave a talk over the weekend to some executives and afterwards one of them, a very affable Austrian called Thomas, told me about the time he went to close a big business deal with the Vatican. He arrived from Vienna with a full schedule of meetings but instead of hurrying to the first of them his priest-chaperone took him to a chapel to pray for 45 minutes. And they stopped for further prayers after every meeting through the busy day. At first Thomas was anxious and restless, but eventually he surrendered to the ritual and actually found the breaks quite soothing. He also found that the meetings were more relaxed and more efficient (faster, even!) because he’d had time to reflect, recharge and even plan a little. Maybe prayer is the ultimate form of slowness.
Best job in TV?
Last Friday I appeared on an Argentine TV show called Mañanas Informales. It’s one of my favourite shows for talking on. It manages to be noisy and dynamic without being stressful. One reason for this may be the Laughing Trio. In one corner of the studio, three rather scruffy young men sit in front of microphones sipping yerba mate and providing the show’s live laughter soundtrack. They whoop, whistle, make cheeky remarks and laugh with infectious gusto. I know they’re laughing to order but the effect is still the same: I find them hugely amusing and weirdly soothing. Certainly beats the hell out of the canned laughter that blights so many sitcoms. I even feel a bit envious: if you have to work in TV, then what better job could there be?