EclecticLip

A long-time proponent of the “A3″ reporting format (which aims to summarize a problem and its solution in a roughly 11″ x17″ sheet of paper) it was a delight to cover Understanding A3 Thinking in the book club. 

Having authored some epic reports and PowerPoint slide decks in my time, the prospect of condensing findings into a single – albeit large – sheet of paper, immediately piqued my interest.  It also brought to mind the quotation by Antoine de Saint-Exupery:

Perfection is achieved, not when there is noting more to add, but when there is nothing more to take away.
 

Consider that it’s standard form to report out insights in essay format, with complete sentences; this is as inefficient as incandescent lighting.  In Edison’s invention, only a few percent of the energy output is light (the rest is waste heat).  In a technical report I’d be surprised if more than 20% of the words relate to the discoveries; I’d bet most of the words are “filler” required to make the communication of information, conform to grammatical rules. 

While Understanding A3 Thinking did cover the guidelines Toyota uses for A3 reports (e.g. emphasizing visual methods, instead of verbal methods, for explanation) it suggested the overarching value was to ingrain rigorous problem-solving discipline in the employees.  Over the course of the problem-solving, engineers submit A3’s to their supervisors and other senior staff, who provide guidance and suggestions, both on problem-solving approach and data presentation. 

As such, by the time an A3 report is finished, it will have gone through extensive “peer review” (or “superiors’ review”) which helps improve the quality of the findings, the presentation, and the problem-solving skills of the author — who may in turn pass these best practises to future junior employees.
As always, if you enjoy the book summary, please consider supporting the authors by purchasing a copy. 

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Understanding A3 Thinking - summary

I’ve been using the ideas from David Allen’s Getting Things Done at work for about a year now, and despite my undeniable novicedom, have found it invaluable: I feel like a Stone Age artisan newly introduced to bronze!

Like so many transformative tools, the basics are delightfully simple — but like eastern martial-arts disciplines with which it shares… well, virtually nothing, the arresting simplicity takes years to master. 

Actually, I jest — the end-goal of GTD, as it’s known to its acolytes, is to allow the practitioner to engage in their life and work attentively, undistracted by other action-items and to-do’s that might otherwise clutter the mind.  Which means it’s basically the Zen ideal of mushin, or “no-mind”, dressed up in 21st-century American secular idiom.  And mushin plays a central role in every eastern martial-arts discipline I’ve chanced to read up on.  So GTD does in fact share a common fundament with karate, judo, aikido, and their cousins.
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For me, the biggest GTD learnings have been:

• discovering the exhiliaration of the empty inbox!
• the idea of separating items on my to-do lists based on timeframe (my prior attempts to make to-do lists failed because my short- and long-term items were jumbled together)

Most gratifyingly, the “outsourcing” of my memory to Outlook has let me clear my mental cache of those things-to-remember that always floated around in the back of my mind, depleting my concentration.  So now, instead of multitasking, I can monotask.  That is, I can direct 100% of my focus to various tasks-at-hand, instead of only offering 90% (because the other 10% needed to be held back to avoid forgetting other action items).

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With my quantum leap in workplace productivity, it was a rashworthy irritation that I couldn’t apply similar methods at home with Gmail, given its more limited architecture.

So discovering GTDInbox a few days ago was a real psychological emollient.    A Firefox extension, it layers a GTD-friendly interface onto the Gmail interface.
Within a few hours, I’d decluttered my Gmail Inbox from about 170 to under 50 items — one screen.  And there’ll be a few whoops (as in plural-of-the-celebratory-whoop, not as in gentle-expletive-indicating-accident) of joy in the living room when I attain the mythical state of “Inbox Zero“. 

Couldn’t help smiling on noticing that one of the books I’m decluttering, is called Inner Simplicity.