Where Do Ideas Come From?

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So one question that’s come up is “Who came up with the idea for Fleck?” The answer to that question is … complex. I think maybe what people want is a name & a face they can associate with the “author” of Fleck, or Casino, or what have you. And for some games, and some companies, and some methods of development, it’s easy enough to do that. Metal Gear Solid isn’t MGS without Hideo Kojima’s very particular brand of weirdness, or it’s clear that Braid is a very personal statement & wouldn’t have been what it is without Jonathan Blow.

For Self Aware Games, I wouldn’t consider us a team guided by an auteur. I would suggest that our primary strength is that we work really, really well as a team, and the creative input from the group gets amplified, and the result is better than any initial idea from a single person. It’s a collaborative effort. It’s not a democratic one, to be clear. Decisions are not made by consensus, but the designers are… uh… self aware enough to understand that they (myself included) don’t always have the best ideas – but that we can take the best ideas & synthesize them into something that is the team’s best output.

So I wouldn’t say that we’re auteur-driven, and I don’t feel any shame about that. Maybe a bit of pride that our process can be an expression of a wide variety of ideas from a wide variety of sources while still remaining coherent, with a coherent “feel”. I believe that if you’ve played a Self Aware Games game, you should be able to recognize another one after playing it. Maybe not on sight (Fleck & Casino are very, very different beasts), but they share a lot of the same fundamental ideas – that you want to play together.

The second thing stems from something a bit weird. It’s probably overly reductionist, but I’d say there are two fundamental types of game designers – “practical” designers, and “whimsical” designers.

A game like “World of Goo” is a work of whimsy, for me. It’s got practical elements, of course – all the core interactions are really well suited to motion control, a mouse, or any kind of pointing device – but so much of what sets it apart is its style, and the vision for the whole world it lives in. Frankly, its’ brilliant, and not the kind of thing I would have ever come up with. If you’ve never played it, go check it out. World of Goo. 2D Boy. Whatever it’s currently priced at, it’s totally worth it.

I consider myself a really practical designer. Even the whimsical elements to me often start with practical considerations. So an idea often starts not with, “Hey, wouldn’t it be cool if…” and more, “Hey, what can we do with…”

There are a few obvious considerations:

  • Who are we making the game for?
  • What platform are we making the game for?
  • What can you do now that you couldn’t have done before?

Word Ace Prototype Kit

Take Word Ace, for instance. We’d just finished Taxiball, and we heard about the Palm Pre & knew we wanted to try to get in on the ground floor there. So, we were making a game for what was likely a more business-oriented player than a normal iPhone user. We were making something for a phone that had a keyboard. Something that was persistently connected to the internet. So you could do real-time multiplayer, on your phone, and make it a really social experience. Word Ace was the sort of “natural” result – something that really put the keyboard to good use, and was an online multiplayer game you could keep in your pocket.

When we find ourselves with an opportunity to make something new, that’s often where we start. What’s new? What would we want to do that we couldn’t do before? With Fleck, the lynchpin was the maps, and the fact that a lot of location-oriented data was becoming available. There was also a boom of games that used “friends” as basically “ammunition.” The huge wave of Mafia games that required you to have N users on your Friend List, etc.

So, as we started thinking about what we could do, we wanted something that was a real-time game, where it mattered how many friends you had. The first doodles I did were basically a game that was sort of similar to thatgamecompany’s game fl0w, but where your avatar was basically created by your Twitter account, and any Twitter activity, in real-time, had an effect on the game. If someone tweeted, it’d act as an immediate powerup. You’d eat other players’ Twitter friends, and then they’d be notified via Twitter DM or something, and have a chance to exact some sort of revenge.

It was a kind of novel concept, but ultimately, the problem is that I didn’t really like fl0w (no offense to tgc), and as a result, using it as a starting point felt like a mistake. In the end, the thing that I liked about the idea was the concept that real-world information could have an effect on the game in some sort of real time.

The second thing that really formed the basic idea for Fleck was simply that there was this huge wave of “social games”, and something about it was just constantly irritating. Spamming Facebook wasn’t social, and the “games” themselves were barely games. For me, growing up playing multiplayer games meant doing things together - sometimes against each other, sometimes cooperatively with one another, but that you shared an experience, and then got to tell stories about it later.

That was the magic of socialization through gaming – it gave you a shared experience. You could talk about it afterwards, whether it was moments after the game was over, or months later, reminiscing about that time you got completely owned. There was something that was obviously hugely appealing about this kind of instantly-accessible, simple experience, and something about needing your friends to help you make progress – but that the games that had come to embody the idea of “social games”… sucked.

So how could we make a game that was genuinely social? Something that had enough depth that you’d consider it a game? Something that used real-world data, ideally in real-time?

If you’ve played Fleck, those questions are starting to have a solution that sounds at least a little like Fleck. We needed to have real-time interaction, but also some elements of asynchronousness, because not everyone’s online at the same time all the time. We needed to have something that had an extraordinarily simple interface. We wanted something that had real time interactions that involved some strategy, but weren’t brutally punishing, where people could work together to achieve some sort of success.

We had these conversations, outlining the basics of what we wanted to achieve, around my dining room table. At the time, we were working occasionally out of a shared office, and occasionally out of each of our houses. I remember doodling on the whiteboard, and mocking up the Twitter-Eater concept in Photoshop. The conversation carried on over the course of a couple of days, but then the last piece fell into place.

“What was the ultimate practical expression of what the hardware could support in a few years?”

Gyroscope. Persistent connectivity. Camera. Maps. Location. Access to data about the world via a wide (and ever-increasing) variety of APIs.

So, a massively-multiplayer online game that takes elements of asynchronous and real-time games, deep enough to be a lasting experience, broad enough to support a wide variety of interests, fundamentally social, and accessible as possible. Somewhere the API discussion then hit on maps. And then we were off to the races.

Next: Why Fleck is completely insane, and no rational developer would ever make what we’ve made.

Kickstarted

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So, Double Fine put out a Kickstarter Project. You might have heard of it by now, because it’s been by almost any measure, a massive success. Heck, I threw in based on my undying love of Grim Fandango (see what I did there?). But the one thing that I haven’t seen yet, amidst all the talk about how this is totally going to revolutionize how games get funded are two points:

First. It’s great that DF’s got the money. I firmly believe that they’ll make something wonderful, and I think that’s why it attracted such quick & fervent backing. But at the same time, it’s not just the funding that changes, when something like this happens. Accountability is another big thing that’s changed. While you could say theoretically that having THOUSANDS of people who have a vested interest in this getting out, the pressure will be on for them to deliver, that’s very, very different on a practical level than having one producer with the authority to say, “This gets cut so we meet budget/deadline.”

DF hasn’t been known for its punctuality. Their smaller recent projects seem to have been less crazy than earlier ones, but it’s not like DF has an absolutely ironclad reputation for getting their games out the door on time/budget. And with no one in their face, with the authority to assure that they do, I have what I think are “realistic” expectations of the potential outcome. I think most of the people who threw in money will want a game, on the date promised, come hell or high water, and I’m not 100% sure that’s what they’re (we’re, rather) going to get. We’ll see – ultimately, the impact that this is going to have isn’t going to be understood until the end result is in peoples’ hands, and they’re either happy or furious with the result.

The second point is perhaps a stranger one, and maybe it’s just obvious to me because we’re cranking away like crazy people on Fleck & Casino. In essence… we already do exactly what everyone’s claiming is the big revolution. Yes, there are differences between what Kickstarter is doing and what we’re doing. But with freemium games like ours, where we’re taking in scads of feedback from REAL users who are ALREADY playing our game, we’re essentially doing Kickstarter in real-time, rather than queueing up all the funding up front.

Yes, we worked on Fleck & Casino for a substantial period of time before they saw the light of day, but that’s really no different than what’s happening in this situation. DF is leveraging funding/technology from previous projects, but essentially cutting out the middleman for funding. Same deal, except a user can actually play the game, decide how much they like it, throw in some money, and keep playing. It’s not an all-or-nothing sight-unseen proposition. And yes, “freemium” brings with it a ton of baggage. Everyone assumes “freemium” = Zynga-squeeze-blood-from-a-stone-style-Skinner-Box.

But that comes back to who you are, and why you make games. I hope if you’re reading this blog, it’s because you’ve spent some time with us, and you know why we make things. We make things that we want people to love - to steal the way Joss Whedon phrases why he makes things.

Ultimately, the parallel is simple – in most situations, there is a middleman between the developer and the customer – the publisher who pays the developers’ bills & often asserts some unwelcome “creative” input. In both the Kickstarter case, and with our games (both Card Ace & Fleck), the customer is, quite simply, you. Directly. And I don’t think we’d have it any other way.

Cloning Games Sucks

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There’s been a recent spate of stories regarding Zynga’s propensity for cloning other games. It’s nothing new, but it’s popped back up in the media’s eye again, and it got me thinking about why I hate it so much.

Zynga claims that all games are essentially iterative, based on previous games that have come before, and that their iteration is no different. That’s obviously untrue to anyone with game development experience, but that may not be obvious to non-developers. First, there’s plenty of documentation showing that Zynga intentionally does this, and it is a core part of their strategy. Their CEO is “on record” with the following quote:

“I don’t f***ing want innovation. “You’re not smarter than your competitor. Just copy what they do and do it until you get their numbers.” – Mark Pincus, CEO and Founder of Zynga

So let’s not pretend that they’re being honest when they deny that they’re cloning other games. That’s who they are, through and through. That’s where they found their first successes, and it’s where they’ll find all their future successes, because that is what they know how to do.

Let me relate an experience I had a handful of years ago:

I was working on a version of the Sims 2 for consoles. For a variety of reasons, the console versions of the Sims 2 weren’t running on the same basic codebase as the PC versions of the Sims 2. Not that big a deal, lots of console games at the time were very different than their PC counterparts. But the issue was that the two games had to feel similar – they had to behave in basically the same way in the same situation.

The problem was that none of the underlying technology was the same. So even if we had access to the specific values in the PC side’s tuning tables, we couldn’t just import them into the console game and have them be the same. A value of 5 has one effect on the PC side, and the same value might end up in the same behavior acting as thought you’d input 5.5. And the variations were completely inconsistent.

As a result, we had a designer whose job it was, was to sit there with a stopwatch, time all the critical actions in-game, and reverse engineer new tuning tables that would match the behavior of the other game. Why make them the same? Because the other tuning worked. It was fun. It was “The Sims” experience that everyone expected.

This is a really critical thing when it comes to cloning. For all the whinging about a game like Dream Heights copying the large-scale ideas behind Tiny Tower, it’s actually only one part of the problem. There have been dozens of tower-themed games in the last decade, from Yoot Tower (Sim Tower in the US) to any number of time-management games that Tiny Tower also drew inspiration from. But part of the issue that was made clear in Nimblebit’s response to Zynga’s craven defense of their practices was that it wasn’t just the “tower” concept – it was the specific details of the tuning that they stole.

Here’s something that’s not obvious: Every detail matters. Everything. You can have a game where 99% of the things work and are awesome, and one value can screw the whole thing up. This is specific experience I have, and I can tell you with 99.9% certainty that a game that I worked on, which shipped with a value of 0.28 in ONE variable field would have been a measurably better game if that value had been 0.32. I would have bet money at the time, and now, that if you’d had ANY reviewer re-review the game with that single change, the score would have been at least 2 (on a scale out of 10) points higher. Minimum. Probably more. That was, by itself, the difference between very good and almost unplayably poor.

I’m not joking, and if you want to understand why, you have to understand the difference between the terms “overdamped,” “underdamped,” and “perfectly damped”. Which is a bit longer of an explanation than I can get into here, but the difference was a game whose controls were awful, and a game whose controls were interesting and accessible. It took more than a week to change that one variable to that value. Why? Because that value interacted with dozens of other things, from other tuning values to the animation system to the camera system to the framerate. One value change had a ripple effect that affected almost everything. And there were thousands of such values, each with their own ripple effects.

Every detail matters.

And good developers will slave over every single cell in a giant Excel spreadsheet. They will invest weeks, months, even years of effort into crafting an experience that works. With Fleck, we have been tuning those variables for more than a year, and the end result is the game that it is. If you’d started by making a game in the same “genre”, but you had to tune it yourself without “stopwatching” Fleck, you’d end up with a radically different experience, because a LOT of the subtleties would be lost, and all the systems would interact differently.

This, strangely, is where a lot of the effort of game development is. This munging of numbers is where the difference is between a game that is massively fun, and utterly tedious. And I’m not talking about optimizing for monetization, or blah blah blah – I’m talking about the behavior of everything in the game. What it means to be in combat. What it means to plant something. What expectation a player has about how something in the game will work, and what kind of representation of reality (or fantasy) we’re creating.

The devil is in the details. The work is in the details. The craft is in the details. The love is in the details.

The risk is in the details.

What Zynga does is that they steal the details because it eliminates the risk. Making a clone of Tiny Tower that is substantially different – actually iterative – means that you have to take on the risk of making those new systems work. And it means you have to also look at all the old systems, because any meaningful change will then force you to at least reconsider almost everything. By stopwatching the game & literally cloning it, you have no risk of the game not working, of not being, at worst, as fun as the source material.

Which means if you’re a company whose sole expertise is in outmarketing your opponents, you’ll basically be guaranteed victory. The weird thing, given their massive resources and marketing advantage, is why they’re not doing even better with this strategy.

But maybe it’s not that strange. Because making something new is hard – it’s a labor of passion, of dedication, and of love. And even though the game systems can be cloned to the millisecond, the love can’t. And while a very “casual” gamer may not be able to tell the difference between a game that’s made by people who love making games and people who are sitting in cubes with stopwatches, as that audience becomes more sophisticated, and more aware, I hope that they will begin to feel that love, that craft, and they’ll start to understand what’s missing. But that’s the optimist in me speaking.

Unfortunately, what’s clear right now is that the only thing that really matters right now is not who’s made the better game, but who’s made the game that more players know about, and right now, no one does that better than Zynga. They’ve shown the wider audience simply doesn’t care about who crafted the original experience, and that cloning a game like this only has upside to them with no material negative consequences.

The bulk of their users will never hear of Tiny Tower or Nimblebit. They’ll never hear that all of their other favorite games are clones of other games that someone else created.

Until one day, when Zynga’s succeeded in cloning & outmarketing their opponents; when they’ve cornered the industry and crushed their enemies.

What will their stopwatches time then?

 

 

* As a weird aside, whenever I think about Zynga these days, I’m reminded of the Once-ler from Dr. Seuss’s story The Lorax, which I’ve been reading regularly to my son. If you’ve never read it (as I hadn’t until recently), I’d highly recommend it.

Break Yourself

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…or how incremental progress can kill you.

Rather, not how it can kill you, but how incremental progress can lead you to a dead end. The simplest example is bowling. When you start bowling, you roll the ball down the lane. Not terribly difficult. Try to hit pins. As you improve, you roll the ball down the lane into a better spot. Your score goes up by a few points, or down by a few points, but over time, you improve.

Since bowling is at least sort of competitive, you take some pride in your increased score, and when you play with friends (probably most of the time, if not always), part of you is striving to beat them. So you play, and you improve. Slowly, over time, you reach a plateau, and no matter how hard you try, that’s the best you can do.

You’ve seen that professional bowlers all bowl differently than you do. So you try to replicate that, and you roll gutter ball after gutter ball. You give up, because you’re sick of posting terrible scores, and you go back to striving to cross that plateau… which never happens.

I don’t know about you, but that’s how almost everyone I know bowls.

That’s how I bowled, for a very long time, until at one point a few years ago, I decided to resign myself to losing for an entire year.

I don’t bowl much, if at all, anymore – but in that year, I posted scores sometimes in the single digits. Then it slowly improved, and improved. Three months in (I was unemployed at the time, so I was going bowling maybe twice a week), my scores substantially exceeded where I was. And then I got another job, ended up moving, and was no longer a short walk from a bowling alley, at which point I basically stopped.

In the years since, I’ve realized that the most critical thing I learned was that I had to abandon what I had in order to improve it.

The thing is, this is an obvious lesson. What’s hard is seeing where it applies, and then actually doing it.

There are tons of things that have this quality:

  • You make a substantial investment of time & effort into learning how to do something
  • There is pressure or competition that encourages you to perform “your best”.

But it’s insidious – the pressure to perform your best is a trap that causes you to not be able to say, “Look, I’m going to make substantial change, and I’m going to fail for a while.” The education system is like that. You cannot say to a teacher, “Look, I need to learn how to learn, and there are going to be some hiccups along the way.” No, if you’re a B student, you work harder, and then you’re maybe eventually a B+ student. But your habits haven’t really changed, you’ve just learned to do whatever you’re doing moderately well more.

This happens in the game industry. This is why, I believe, so much of the “social game” industry looks the same. You invest a lot of time in building something. You’re constantly under pressure to succeed financially. And so you do what you “know” works. In many cases, it seems a lot of social game developers “play the Zynga game”. And they do that, trying to compete with Zynga by bowling the ball straight down the lane.

They make incremental progress. Their audience increases by a percent. .1% of people come back slightly more regularly. There’s so much pressure to improve the numbers, but there’s even more pressure to make sure they never get worse.

I’ve played FPS games for many, many years. Halo, Call of Duty, Resistance, Killzone, blah blah blah. In multiplayer, I’m rarely at the top of the leaderboard. I’m decent at getting into an advantageous position – tactically, I think I do quite well. Where I totally fail is in the act of shooting. But I can consistently reach the midfield on the scoreboard. There’s SO MUCH feedback in these games that encourage you, or reward you, to do well that it’s hard to say, “Time to take a different approach,” and have people trash talk you, mock your lack of skills, and otherwise make your life miserable.

I’m not saying incremental improvement doesn’t have value. It has massive value. But you have to be aware that it can also be a trap, and if you’re stuck at a plateau, you cannot break through it incrementally. You have to understand what fundamental problems you’re having, and accept that working on the fundamentals can mean that you will fail for a good period of time as you learn. The system is unforgiving of failure. There are certainly times when that fear is correct, and now is not the time to upend the system.

But there are probably more times than you’d expect where what you should be doing is wrecking your skills, trying something completely out of your comfort zone, abandoning the success you have in favor of something with a higher potential. Look at what you’re doing carefully. Because it’s distinctly possible that incremental success will kill you, and failure will set you free.

Random Stuff I Like

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This is just a list of random stuff I’ve really enjoyed recently.

Food (in Oakland, CA):

  • Hawker Fare – This is a pretty regular lunch spot. They serve a take on Thai rice bowls. The food itself is uniformly excellent (you have to try the sundae), the staff is super-friendly, and it’s got a fantastic vibe.
  • Trueburger – My favorite spot for a burger. Excellent milkshakes (the Toasted Marshmallow FTW), first off. Salty, crispy fries. They’ve got something called the True Deluxe, which is a burger topped with a mozzarella-stuffed deep-fried portobello. What’s not to love? Also, try the Spicy Slaw Dog.

Honestly, the thing I love about these two places is that to me, they feel like “the neighborhood”. They’re straightforward stuff, not overly fancy, but of extraordinary quality. They feel like *Oakland* – like if you had the same restaurant somewhere else, it couldn’t help but be different. The staff at both are great – the experience isn’t just the food, it’s everything, and I really appreciate that.

The cashier at Trueburger the other day was wearing a Hawker Fare shirt, which I thought was also awesome. I dunno how they feel about it, but it’s not us vs. them, it’s basically us & them, bringing the neighborhood up together. I’m really proud that Self Aware Games is in Oakland. I grew up in this area, and I love it deeply. It’s not all sunshine & roses. Heck, my bike got stolen out of our building the other day. But it’s a neighborhood that’s finally, after decades, starting to realize its potential, and I love that we’re part of that.

Games:

  • Pinball FX 2 (XBLA/PSN)- Of all the games I’ve played this holiday season, for some reason I keep coming back to Pinball FX 2. It’s got a great social vibe (for something on XBLA), and I’ve got a soft spot for pinball. I like the fact that the game itself is basically just the “frame”, and you can populate it with the tables you like, but you can try them all for free. Feels like steps toward a more modular future, which is great.
  • Uncharted 3 (PS3) - Uncharted 2 was one of my favorite games ever. U3 starts out a touch disappointing – it feels a bit too much like U2+. But by the middle of the game, everything has ramped up to 11, and it’s epically epic.
  • Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim (360/PS3/PC) - Well, it’s an Elder Scrolls game, so it’s huge. It’s also really engrossing, and I’ve barely scratched the surface. I love the Nordic-inspired setting, but maybe that’s just a personal bias. That’s fine with me. :)
  • Qrank (iOS) – It’s a daily trivia game. You compete against folks on your friend list, but also on local leaderboards. New content every day. Free. Honestly, I’d have paid for it. It can sometimes be a bit buggy, but it’s always good for a few minutes of fun every day, which is, frankly, awesome.
  • Ascension: Chronicle of the Godslayer (iOS) – a deck-building game. Basically you construct AND fight with the deck you create, trying to basically outscore your opponent by fighting/acquiring a communal pool of cards. The interface is slick, the games are relatively fast, and they just released an expansion pack that adds a TON of new content. This is almost my go-to iOS game. It’s pretty, it’s satisfying, and it changes every time.
  • Fleck, and Card Ace: Casino (iOS) – Well, duh. :D Still, I play both every single day, and every single day they put a smile on my face. I can’t say I’m unbiased, but I can say I’m proud of what we’ve made.

TV:

  • Sherlock (BBC) – I’m super late to the game on this, but the BBC’s new Sherlock series is AMAZING. The modernization & the chemistry between the leads work beautifully, and while some of the plot points are maybe a bit too … reachable, the 90-minute episodes (of which there are only three) are a joy to watch. Check it out. It’s available on Netflix.

Now:

Is “now” a thing you can say you like? Sure. Why not? Now is awesome. Things are good. They are interesting. They are educational. Are they all good? Some things are challenging, some things are upsetting, and some things are very, very difficult. But that’s life – full of all kinds of things. The things that are good are, honestly, as good as can be. We have you to thank for that.

Thank you!
And have a wonderful new year.
ps: Next post – Break Yourself: How Incremental Progress Can Kill You

Insecurity

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On an earlier post, I’d mentioned that insecurity can be a good thing. I don’t know that insecurity in itself is a good thing, but as a symptom, it’s not a bad one. People strive, I believe, for a sense of security. What I hope to convey is that I think it’s a poor goal – a false one – while the ability to project security & confidence is a good thing, developing an internal sense of security is actually a step in the wrong direction.

Donald Rumsfeld got mocked for this quote:

“[T]here are known knowns; there are things we know we know.
We also know there are known unknowns; that is to say we know there are some things we do not know.
But there are also unknown unknowns – the ones we don’t know we don’t know.”
—Former United States Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld

While I’m no fan of Rumsfeld’s, I like this quote a lot (though not in the original context), and I think it was sad that this is what he was maligned for.

When you start out at something, you know you don’t know anything. At least, you should know that, because if you don’t, you’ll never learn anything.

As you gain experience in that thing, you begin to feel more confident. You know some stuff. You know what you know, and you feel good about it.

After a while, as your knowledge of that field expands even further, you begin to realize – at least if you’re in an interesting field doing interesting things – that it’s incredibly difficult, and that experience matters. You realize the scope of the things that you have left to learn. You know what you don’t know, and more importantly, how far you have to go before you understand it.

Then, there’s the phase where you realize that even when you absolutely master your field, when you are the expert that other experts seek out, that there is a whole system of events that you cannot control, you cannot understand, and in many cases, you have no impact on. Some of this, maybe you know. You may know that you’re more likely to like someone who hands you a hot drink than a cold one. You may know that you’re more likely to make a higher estimate after reading the number 501,208,281,291 than the number 4. And you may know that even if you know these things you can’t affect their impact on you. Those are still part of the known unknowns. But in that vein – if those are the known unknowns, trying to imagine what the unknown unknowns are is like looking into the mouth of madness. And while these examples may seem ludicrous, the point is that in almost every endeavor, there are things like this – things that are almost impossible to anticipate, but will have a dramatic impact on whatever it is you’re doing.

How’s that relate to being insecure?

There’s a level of expertise you reach, I think, where you can make excellent calls. You can have good judgment to deal with new situations, and you can have enough experience that you have a whole toolbox in your pocket to deal with situations like those you’ve encountered before. But in any field that involves some level of complexity, things quickly spiral beyond the point where that system can be completely contained in one mind. So you know there are things that you don’t know. And you know there are things you can’t know. People who make decisions in that space who are confident and assured don’t know they don’t know those things.

I’m not saying that you have to be wishy-washy, or that you have to project that insecurity. I think a good leader will project a calm, steady presence, and make decisions with authority. But I don’t think those people make those decisions with security that their decisions are the right ones. They’re just the best that they can do with the resources available. At some point, those are the only kinds of decisions you can make. No one makes the right decisions all the time, they just make the best decisions they can.

So while you ideally shouldn’t project your internal insecurity, you should feel it. You should internalize it, be aware of it, and understand what you have control over and what you don’t. It will help you remain flexible, because you will always remember that you may have to be adaptable. So to me, a little insecurity isn’t a bad thing. You make the best calls you can, you learn from your mistakes, and you move on.

I hope you’re insecure.

Because then it means you’re doing interesting things – and that the results may be even more interesting than you expect.