Do you want to work in wartime or peacetime?
This comparison of how working during wartime is different from during peacetime struck a chord with me. I worked at Google, which was at peace. After Google, I worked as an independent app developer, then ran my startup, then ran a services company, worked as a CTO, and I now consult. All these are war. With this background in mind, I wanted to reflect on the above insightful points.
The first and third bullets: At Google, I noticed work done with higher quality than required, to the point where adding a few fields to a dialog box dragged on for six weeks. This level of gold plating is not justified by quality. Beyond a point, you get diminishing returns from spending more time, but peacetime companies can be in the zone of diminishing returns, and not be aware, nor care when they’re aware. In my startup, I did work at a lower quality than I would if I were working with a product that’s already successful. But low quality doesn’t mean zero quality: many startups work with complete disregard for quality and then ask why their tech isn’t working. That’s like building a house with paper walls and being surprised when it collapses.
The second bullet: Googlers were conflict-averse and people didn’t stand up for decisions that would result in a good product or UX. The modus operandi was to shove something, anything out the door. By contrast, in the startup world, we had passionate arguments about (say) launching with a mediocre UX to move faster and then improve the UX.
The fifth bullet: Googlers knew their job is safe. If anything, they had too much safety, to the point of having too little skin in the image. They didn’t care about what’s right for users. One of my managers scolded me, “Why do you care if the product is built the right way? Are you going to lose your job? Am I? You should focus on what’s important, which is getting promoted!” On the other hand, startups are not safe — the majority fail. If you’re working at a startup, the default future ahead of you is failure, and you should work to change that. But too much skin in the game is as bad as too little: it causes stress, and people can handle only a certain amount of stress before they lose perspective. The typical founder I know is running like a madman from a predator chasing him. If only he can think for a second, he can realize that he’ll be safe if he climbs a tree, but he’s panicking so much that his mind is off, until he’s eaten by the predator. I have the mentality of a scientist: I don’t mind an experiment failing — I can handle failure — but I do mind if my income is withheld because the experiment failed. Neither too much safety nor too little safety is good.
The last two bullets: At Google, I was frustrated at being slowed by an excessively bureaucratic system put in place to prevent progress. I was trying to ride a bicycle but multiple people were pressing hard on the brakes. I eventually left because I didn’t want to waste my life. On the other hand, startups demand 200% from people for a long time, so they burn out, which haunts them for years to come. Neither extreme is good.