work – Terence Eden’s Blog

We've received a letter about you

@edent — Wed, 03 Jul 2024 11:34:31 +0000

This is a retropost. It was written in July 2021, but published after I had left the Civil Service.

An MP has written to the Chancellor of the Duchy of Lancaster asking about some work our department is doing. This is all rather usual for Government business.

In the letter, the MP mentions me. By name. This is decidedly unusual!

Civil Servants at my level are anonymous, interchangeable cogs in a vast machine. Those in charge of the machine want information - they don't usually care who gives it to them.

I now have various people asking me how I caught their attention (official blog post, probably?), why they mentioned me (no idea!), whether I'm in trouble (doubtful…), and how much attention needs to go to the reply (the usual diligence).

And so a little flurry of excitement disrupts an otherwise uneventful day. The response gets written up, then rewritten by others, then checked, rechecked, and formatted correctly - whereupon is disappears into the æther. No doubt it will manifest in a Red Box somewhere.

The problem with proximity to power is that it is seductive. The little vicarious thrill of being in the room next to the room where it happens! Perhaps a little bit of the glamour and prestige will rub off? Maybe my name will be spoken in higher and higher circles until someone says "let's get that Eden chap in here to sort this mess out!"

It is nonsense, of course. My ego enjoys the brief allure of being puffed up, but then safely returns to a more manageable size. But I can see why people like it - and why it drags down so many otherwise upstanding people.

I don't understand the sacrifices people make for work

@edent — Thu, 06 Jun 2024 11:34:06 +0000

Just before I graduated from University, I went to a careers fair to help me decide what I wanted to do with my life. At one of the stalls was our local Police force⁰ - advertising the exciting new world of digital forensics¹.

Here is - almost verbatim - the conversation I had with the recruiter.

Me: "Hello! What do I need to do in order to use my computer science degree to catch criminals?"

Them: "Well, after the physical, first you'll need to spend several years as a beat copper working on the front line. And then..."

Me: "Byeeeeeeee!"

Like, I can get that it might be useful to have practical experience of nicking scumbags and cracking heads. But I wanted to spend my days behind a computer - not getting roughed up, spat at, and being abused. I simply wasn't prepared to make that sacrifice. And certainly not for the salary they were offering.

There's a rage-bait story doing the rounds at the moment - Gen Z Cops 'Won't Work Weekends or Overtime'. Curse the youth of today! O tempora, o mores!

The reality is slightly more prosaic. A Police Scotland Superintendent said:

Young people don't want to come in and work overtime; they want their weekends off. They aren't like Gen X that came in before them.

It is not that Gen Z recruits are less inclined to work the weekends they have been rostered, but rather they are less willing to volunteer for additional overtime at the weekend and even less pleased when weekend or days off are canceled, as is often the case in policing

Well… duh!

Would you work for a paltry wage and risk your domestic relationships in service of people who didn't appreciate you? No.

I remember reading the book "The Secret Barrister" The author - a lawyer - complains about all the bullshit working practices, late nights, unrealistic demands on their time, and the crappy pay. All I could think of while reading it was "You chose this life. You knew what it was like before you got in."

I feel the same when I read about doctors and surgeons having their lives upended by work. I thought about trying to become a medical doctor when I was a kid². But I took one look at the sacrifices I'd have to make - insane training hours designed by a sadist, zero control over my career, an uncaring management structure - and I noped out.

Sure, some people have a calling. They feel the need so strongly that it over-rides all other issues. But most people aren't like that, are they?

A startup founder might be prepared to sacrifice everything in order to change the world. Their first half-a-dozen hires might also drink the Kool-Aid. But after that, it is diminishing returns. Why would I work 80 hour weeks for your shitty start-up when I could get a job which gives me a pension and lets me clock-off in the evening?

The Chief Superintendent who made the comments about Gen-Z makes a reasonable point:

The Service must evolve its practices and systems of work to accommodate flexibility wherever possible, if we are to attract and retain people within policing

It isn't that the kids are wrong - they rarely are - it's just that the incentives are wrong. It sometimes seems like we've built a world that relies on the enthusiasm of true believers.

But once someone points out that the emperor has no clothes, it doesn't take long for goodwill to evaporate and systems to crumble.

Yes, I have seen Hot Fuzz ↩︎
Well, it was new back then. I am old. ↩︎
I doubt my grades would have even let me operate a tongue depressor. ↩︎

It isn't who you know - it's who knows you

@edent — Mon, 20 May 2024 11:34:20 +0000

I'm terrible at networking. I forget people's names minutes after meeting them, I never have business cards and lose the ones I'm given, and I can't go five minutes without burbling some nonsense. But I recognise that networking is a skill and, like any skill, it takes practice to succeed.

I've always been told that success isn't always about what you know, but more about who you know. So how does someone who is introverted, bad at small talk, and terrible at sending follow-up emails get to know people?

The answer, as always, is to let other people do the hard work.

I realise that asking lottery-winners for advice on how to pick your numbers is not a reliable method for becoming a millionaire - but I'd like to explain how I network and where it has got me.

Several years ago, I lost my job. I knew it was coming, but it still felt shitty. At midday, I rang my wife, told her what had happened and said that I was coming home.

"What about your presentation tonight?" she said. I'd forgotten that I had a Mobile Monday talk in my diary. Frankly, I couldn't think of anything worse than standing up in a room full of employed people and bleating on about my side projects.

"Nah. I'm just not up for it," I said.

"Look, you never know who is going to be there. You can enjoy your unemployment tomorrow."

So, I did the talk. I chatted with people (whose names I instantly forgot), picked up business cards (which are still in a pile somewhere), and drank a bit too much free wine. Then went home to cry.

A few days later, I had an interview with a trendy new startup! The very first thing that the CEO said to me was "Nice to meet you - I loved your talk at Mobile Monday last week!"

I got the job. Not necessarily because of how awesome a speaker I am - but it certainly helped that I received a round of applause from people in the industry.

Several months later and I was touting for work again. A casual acquaintance told me her firm was hiring. I went in to meet the manager and, again, almost the first thing she said was "We saw your talk at Mobile Monday - it was great!"

Two birds - one stone :-)

More recently, I've got speaking gigs because people have said that they've watched my talks online. I've had more interviews where people have asked for me by name after reading one of my blog posts. I've had journalists call me up for "expert commentary" because they've seen that I've been posting on social media knowledgeably about a specific subject.

Relentless self-promotion is exhausting and - I think - off-putting to most of your audience. That's not the aim here.

So here are my vague thoughts on how to get people to know you:

Don't talk about yourself - talk about what interests you.
Don't insert yourself mindlessly into a conversation - build up a rapport with people you admire.
Don't be a "brand" - people see through that.
Do put yourself out there - go to events where you have only a vague interest in the subject.
Do ask. Tell people you'd like to present, or write a blog post, or help them organise.
Do be prepared to fail. Most people won't remember the things which go wrong; but the effort pays dividends.

Pushing The Button

@edent — Tue, 07 May 2024 11:34:53 +0000

This is a retropost. Written contemporaneously in 2020, but published four years after the events. It's May 2020 as I write this. I'm typing to capture the moment. Right now, I've no idea what the impact is.

This is the exact moment, on Thursday May 7th, I hit the Big Red Button - three of them! - to open source the UK's COVID-19 Beta test app.

https://shkspr.mobi/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/05/Open-Source-NHSX.mp4

It was thrilling and terrifying. We'd spent the last few weeks getting ready to open source the repos and then, at the last minute, it all went wrong. The plan was to launch on Tuesday - but fate conspired against us.

The problems fell into three main areas:

Threats and personal safety. This was probably the highest profile code release that we'd ever done. There were already people grumbling online that the people writing the code were "traitors". Did we want to expose our people to that sort of personal abuse? What if they were targets of phishing attempts?
Redacting history. Probably the most contentious issue. We all wanted to release everything from the very first commit. Would that reveal anything dangerous? Had someone slipped and accidentally committed an API key they shouldn't?
Communications. The other most contentious issue! The department were in "crisis comms" mode. Everything was delayed. No one had reviewed the blog I'd written, there was no pre-arranged plan in place for this sort of thing. Understandable really - this was a tiny piece of a much larger puzzle. But it was still frustrating to wait for people to be ready for us to publish.

We took the pragmatic approach. We took a snapshot of the code, thoroughly scrubbed it of all identifying information and secrets, and prepared to release it. Then we waited. And waited.

Every time we thought we had the go-ahead, there was another delay! There was a strict comms schedule. We couldn't launch now; it would interrupt that other announcement!

I was asked to help rewrite bits of the announcements. This led to some memorable questions from the comms squad. How can you explain to the average user...

what "Source Code" is?
why the Android code is different from the iPhone code?
who are "Git Hub"?

And, the kicker? All these questions came in while I was on a conference call with a bunch of government ministers! The joys of multiple monitors!

It was interminable. I sent texts which went unanswered. Emails. Phone calls. Just a few minutes more. Any moment now. We need to wait for...

And then!

"Can we launch ASAP?"

Yes! The email I was waiting for. But I am a paranoid and cautious Fraggle. Was that "Launch now!" or "Can we launch now?"?

So I sent a reply. "Just to confirm - do you want me to publish now?" And waited.

And waited.

I got an email from my boss "Launch now!"

And a second later, from comms: "Please hold off - no go. Will call you shortly."

How I longed to press that button. I could say that I only saw the first email... No. Maybe. No.

An eternity. During which time I casually glanced at Twitter and read all the angry messages from people demanding the release of the code.

The call came. "Publish it - but don't tell anyone." Weird flex, but OK.

I called my very-patient wife into my home office. I wanted the moment captured. She opened her camera. A few clicks, and it was done.

I did a little dance. Let all of the tension out of my body. And waited for the hate to roll in.

It didn't. The response was... positive! Yes, there were grumbles, but so many people were fulsome in their praise that it was overwhelming. Congratulatory tweets and emails did the rounds, and I had a nice cold ale.

I took the bank holiday weekend off. Well, I obsessively read all the tweets, answered questions about my blog post, and kept half-an-eye on GitHub. I'm not good at relaxing.

Has it worked? Did we make the NHS more open and transparent? Did open source win the day? Did the beta test work? Were lives saved? Or was it a damp squib?

As I write this, we're still in the eye of the storm. Perhaps, when this post is published, we'll know the answers.

Drinking Champagne with the Secretary of State

@edent — Mon, 19 Feb 2024 12:34:34 +0000

This is a retropost. Written contemporaneously in February 2019, but published much later.

My life is weird. Again.

Looking out over London from the top floor. The Eye is glittering and the Palace of Westminster is glowing.

Someone pours me a glass of (very expensive⁰) champagne, as the Secretary of State laughs at my witty bon mot.

Is this my life now? People of distinction and influence listening to what I have to say? It isn't an oak-panelled room, with deep armchairs, where cigar-smoking men carve up the world. It's a modest and plain office where men (and women!) have gathered for a bit of mutual backslapping. But I am here. I'm in the room and being thanked.

And why not! We've all worked hard on launching NHSX and are rewarded with a little audience. The chit-chat is awkward - despite the geniality, we're all aware that the boss is here.

Naturally, I believe someone is going to tap me on the shoulder and ask me what the hell I think I'm doing in a room full of proper grown-ups. But, no, people keep asking me questions and telling me their well-practiced anecdotes.

It is simultaneously amazing and banal. I've been at this work-party several times in my career, with dozens of companies, with a parade of CEOs. This feels different. A tiny glimmer of "I've made it a difference!"

I eat my fill of crisps - I am driving later - and slip out. I want to savour the moment, but know too well the perils of outstaying my welcome. I float all the way home.

Proximity to power is a powerful glamour. I understand why some are drawn to it, and some are seemingly addicted.

But I'll be different, I'm sure, as I bask in the experience.

The fizz has come from someone's home. No taxpayers' cash was splashed on booze. ↩︎

My 4th day at DHSC

@edent — Wed, 10 Jan 2024 12:34:54 +0000

This is a retropost. It was written contemporaneously in 2019 - but posted in 2024. I had just been seconded to the Department of Health and Social Care to help kick-start NHSX. I kept a diary of my time there - including working through COVID. As it has been 5 years, and I no longer work in Government, I thought I would publish interesting extracts from it.

My 4th day in a new job and I'm sat in a meeting with the Secretary of State.

I've been in rooms with CEOs. With celebrities. With politicians. But this is the first time I've faced someone this senior, discussing sensitive issues. It's a moment.

I'm in the room. I disassociate briefly. All of a sudden, I'm interrupting someone and making a surprisingly intelligent point. The SofS agrees with me and, seemingly, is impressed - carrying my point forward and referencing it towards the end of the meeting.

The poor chap next to me is getting eviscerated. He either doesn't know his brief - or is being deliberately evasive. The atmosphere is congenial - but there's an undercurrent of menace. The guy is floundering, and the SofS is... not exactly merciless, but lets the guy know he isn't falling for the patter.

I'm simultaneously glad I'm not in the firing line - and worried that I'll one day find myself out of my depth.

The meeting ends and I'm formally introduced. He seems pleased to have me on board - I'm just glad I didn't make a complete fool of myself. And mildly impressed that he actually knew what he was talking about when it came to the details of technology.

That evening, my Great Aunt Sonia dies - aged 90. She had been gently cared for by the NHS. And the work I'm doing suddenly feels a lot more viscerally real.

Introducing Open Ideas

@edent — Thu, 17 Aug 2023 11:34:03 +0000

As previously mentioned, I quit my job. So now I'm no longer working for The Man. Instead, I am working for a man. Specifically: me⁰.

I've launched Open Ideas Ltd. It's a bespoke computing consultancy focused on open technologies. Here's a brief run-down of what I offer:

Open Source
- Want to understand open source licencing? Confused about your options? Worried about getting it right? I am here to help.
Open Standards
- Interested in getting involved with Standards Development Organisations? I have the experience you need.
Open Data
- Ready to publish open data? Getting started with an open API? Let me help you craft a brilliant developer experience.
Cyber Security
- How do you audit your open source supply chain? What are the limits of coding in the open? I can advise you on how to solve these problems.
Tech Policy
- Writing tech policy or guidance? Need a subject matter expert? I will give you a helping hand to craft effective policy papers.

I'm lucky enough to have a few clients already - a large corporate, a charity, an art project, and a non-profit. But, if you need some help becoming a little more open, you can book a meeting with me or drop me an email.

Well, technically me & Liz. My partner in life is also my partner in business. ↩︎

Job leaving rituals in the WFH era

@edent — Mon, 07 Nov 2022 12:34:51 +0000

One Friday last year, I posted some farewell messages in Slack. Removed myself from a bunch of Trello cards. Had a quick video call with the team. And then logged out of my laptop. I walked out of my home office and sat in my garden with a beer.

The following Monday I opened the door to the same office. I logged in to the same laptop. I logged into a new Slack - which wasn't remarkably different from the old one. Signed in to a new Trello workspace - ditto. And started a video call with my new team.

I'll admit, It didn't feel like a new job!

There was no confusing commute to a new office. No having to work out where the toilets and fire exits were. No "here's your desk - it's where John used to sit, so people might call you John for a bit". I didn't even have to remember people's names because Zoom showed all my colleagues' names & job titles.

There was no waiting in a liminal space while receptionists worked out how to let me in the building.

In short, there was no meaningful transition for me.

Vicki Boykis has written a wonderful article about the art of the long goodbye. In it, she explores the rituals which humans have built up to ease our transition between states. We have ceremonies for births, comings of age, marriages, and deaths.

We used to have ceremonies for leaving jobs. Everyone gathering around your desk, a few cheesy words from your boss about how they wouldn't cope without you, maybe a card & small gift. People would pat you on the back, you'd exchange personal phone numbers - even if you had no intention of ever speaking to Jane from accounts again. You'd hand over your ID badge, hand over laptop to an IT support person who'd scowl at all the stickers you'd peppered it with. As you walked out of the building, you'd turn around for one last look at the office, sigh, and wonder if you were making the right decision. Perhaps the team might decant to a pub for valedictory drinks where someone would drunkenly let rip about how they were secretly in love with Jane from accounts.

In those days, you knew that you'd left a job. A greetings card full of sloppy handwriting and soppy messages was tangible evidence that you'd once worked there and had now left.

But now...?

My old team got me a virtual card which has since been deleted unless I pay for an Premium Account on Leaving_Cards_R_Us.biz

They were kind enough to get me a present - a gift certificate. I didn't get a carriage clock to put on my mantelpiece (not that I have one) or anything physical. Instead it paid for a few months of a TV streaming service.

Those colleagues were scattered all over the country, so it would have been impractical to gather in a pub for a venting session. I did get some spicy private messages on LinkedIn, which sort of made up for it.

A courier picked up my old laptop. He didn't care about the stickers and wasn't interested in a hug goodbye. Which was fair enough really.

Vicki says:

In the new COVID/remote work-era, particularly over the last couple months of extremely cruel tech industry layoffs, all of our physical group parting rituals are gone, lost in the digital ether. Nothing has proven this as much as the very painful and very public Twitter layoffs last week.

I'm incredibly bitter about the way my friends at Twitter have been treated. I've been made redundant and it was a horrible and dehumanising experience. But at least I got to shake my (ex) manager's hand, hug my old team-mates, and drink heavily with people who could commiserate with me.

Humans need rituals, or so it appears. Perhaps when working from home we should re-arrange our office whenever we change roles? Put the table on the other side of the room and change the colour of the curtains. But that's impractical for most people.

Maybe we should invent some new rituals. Something to ease our passing from one job into the next.

What on earth would that look like in the WFH era?

I've reached a local maxima in my career

@edent — Tue, 01 Nov 2022 12:34:03 +0000

(Welcome to #NaBloPoMo - National Blog Posting Month. I'm publishing a new blog post every day in November.)

My employer encourages employees to have "career conversations" with their line manager. And I hate it. I don't resent them for making me participate, and it's probably good for me to engage in a little introspection. But that doesn't mean I can't whine like a petulant toddler.

Since my dreams of being the first astronaut to win an Oscar® crumbled to dust, I haven't known what I want out of my professional life. I am a complete career magpie, going "Oooh! Shiny!" and hopping jobs to the next fun thing.

For the last five years, I've been at the same grade at work. I haven't been doing the same job - I've transferred teams and departments multiple times. I've also - to my surprise - received a few pay-rises. I'm far too British to discuss my actual salary - but it is good. Not quite as good as if I were working in the private sector - but I get a decent pension, generous holidays, and reasonable job security.

I'm now at the point where I face several challenges to moving up to the next grade.

My pay - G7 DDaT Technology Specialist Architect Accomplished B - now exceeds the standard pay for the next grade up and, in some cases, the grade after that. Which means either taking a pay cut, or trying to find a department which has the budget to go beyond the standard pay scales. Last year I turned down a job at a higher grade because they were reluctant to even match what I was currently on. The same pay for more responsibility? Yeah, nah. Which brings me on to the next issue…

My management ambitions - I have none. I've been a team leader and line manager and I didn't enjoy either experience. And, crucially, I don't think I was particularly good at it. People deserve managers who are interested in people and their development. That's not me - and I have no desire to either fake it, or learn to do it better. All of the jobs I've seen at the next grade up require people management.

My workload - I like having a life. I work my hours and finish on time. I occasionally have an out-of-hours call, but that's rare. I've done jobs where I flew all over the world at short notice. It's fun for a while, but not something I'm looking for any more. My job is sometimes stressful, but work are good at making sure I'm looking after myself. And it's tempered by knowing what I'm working on matters. Which leads on to…

My impact - maybe I'm naïve, but I believe in the transformative power of the state's technological offering. Would I get that satisfaction from helping make shareholders a little richer? Or fiddling around with a niche product? I only have a limited time on Earth and I've like to work on something that I consider important. I know that I could go work at a hedge-fund and donate my outsized salary to charity - but I want to help practically.

My risk tolerance - a little while ago I held discussions with a cool start-up to be their CTO. It didn't work out for a variety of reasons. But one of the big ones was my attitude to risk. Do I want to gamble that the thing I work on will get acquired by Zuck? Even if I lucked out, would it materially change my life? I try to stay off the hedonic treadmill. But I already own all the houses, toys, and private jets that I want. The upside of a massive risk doesn't seem particularly attractive to me right now.

In short, I've reached a local maxima. The only journey from here appears to be downwards. Either a cut in salary or in quality of life. If I make it through that valley, the upside is… what exactly? It feels like that old joke about the MBA who tells a casual fisherman to spend his life building an empire just so that he can spend his retirement fishing on the lake.

Now What?

I have some longer term plans which hopefully kick in around the year 2030. But the gap between now and then seems a mystery. Here's my rough idea of what's going to happen next.

By the new year, I should have finished my MSc. That will help me determine if I want to do a Professional Doctorate or similar at some point in the future.

I'll have completed a full year in my new job. That will be enough time to know if I want to continue doing it for a bit longer, or whether I'll start casting my eye around.

And then… I don't know. I guess my choices are:

Stay where I am.
Find another Civil Service job - either more interesting or better paid but with a similar work/life balance.
Take a risk and go work for myself (doing what?!) or for someone else (who?!)
Start a new course of study and, maybe, convince work to fund it.

And, you know what? I'm happy with not planning. Sure, I might see the perfect job which I'm not qualified for. In which case, I'll look at how I get qualified.

The world isn't short on opportunities.

Two Anniversaries on One Day

@edent — Tue, 11 Oct 2022 11:34:04 +0000

I'm off to a wedding in Canada which means dealing with the bureaucracy of the Electronic Travel Authorisation.

The form asked me if I'd ever had a previous visa for Canadaland. As it happens, yes! I spent a year studying in Ottawa.

Well then, said the form, you'd better tell me your old visa number.

Ah…

In amongst the various shoe boxen which serve as my ersatz filing system lay a tatty old passport. Crumpled in it was a fading visa, the ink smeared with a barely legible reference number. I entered it, and mighty Eunomia - goddess of paperwork - seemed satisfied with my offering and let me continue with my journey.

Flicking through the leaves, I noticed my entry stamp for my original visit to the Canada.

Today. Twenty-three years ago.

Coincidences are meaningless. But that doesn't mean we can't try and find meaning in them.

I wonder how I've changed in the intervening years? I'm still a long-haired nerd who only wears jeans & t-shirts. I still stay up too late reading and programming computers. I'm probably happier now - despite being less carefree. More assertive while also being more thoughtful. Less internalised misogyny and a greater sense of equality. I became vegetarian while in Canada - and still am. I feel like I was better at making friends back then, but that's the nature of throwing teens together in a strange environment. I'm better at self-directed learning, and probably just as bad as I ever was at procrastinating.

Is that enough? Do I have to change? Can't I just be 19 forever?

By yet another coincidence, today is also my 6 year anniversary of joining the Civil Service.

I wonder how I've changed in the intervening years? I'm still a long-haired weirdo who only wears jeans & t-shirts in meetings with ministers and other senior bods. I feel more confident in challenging things that I think are wrong, but less certain of my deeply held beliefs. Some of the shine has rubbed off - but I still feel pride telling people what I do for a living. My subject-matter expertise has grown, but I wonder if I'm making the best use of it. I feel like I'm better at making connections with people - but still just as bad as I ever was at remembering names.

All of which is to say that time marches on inexorably. But "meaningless" coincidences help me compare and contrast what my life was like and what it is like.

Perhaps those two data-points are enough to extrapolate what my life will be like? Or, more importantly, what I want it to be like?

How To Write A Cover Letter For A Job

@edent — Sun, 14 Aug 2022 11:34:22 +0000

I've just finished reviewing a few dozen CVs and Covering Letters. Almost all of them were awful!

Candidates - I beg you - make this easy for me!

I have been given a fixed set of scoring criteria and you've given me a 2,000 word essay on your life, loves, and hopes for the future. I've only got a few minutes per candidate to read, digest, rank, and score each application.

Here's my 100% guaranteed method for maximising the impact of your cover letter.

Address the selection criteria.

That's it. That's the tip.

Let's say the job advert says "We're looking for a team leader who can increase sales. You must be proficient with StarOffice 5.1 and Infinidash. Being fluent in a second language is desirable, but not essential."

Here's what your covering letter should say:

Dear X

[Short and polite preamble about why you're interested in the role / organisation.]

With regard to your selection criteria:

Team Leader

I currently manage a team of 7 SuperChimps. I take great pride in keeping them fed and watered. In the last 12 months none have died in the line of duty - which I believe is a testament to the way I have trained them. I set challenging but realistic targets. My 360 feedback indicates that I am a respected leader.

Increase Sales

When I worked for Universal Exports, we were only the 5th largest provider of laser watches in the world. I increased sales 117% - mostly through my ability to destabilise governments by infiltrating them with aggressive SuperChimps. My efforts helped us move to 4th largest provider.

Technical Proficiency

I am an AWS certified practitioner of Infinidash. I have led several workshops for my team of SuperChimps to help them understand the platform. I have used StarOffice 4.7 extensively to create spreadsheet reports and canteen menus.

Language Fluency

I have a GCSE in Latin and a 57 week Duolingo Streak in Klingon.

My background in team-lead sales, coupled with my technical experience means that I am well qualified to take on the role of Technical Lead in your Bananas-as-a-Service business unit.

[Polite boilerplate about looking forward to working with them etc]

There you go. You've taken the essential and desired requirements. You've written them as headings (in the same order as the advert). You've written a short paragraph which explains how you meet the criteria and quantifies where possible.

The poor sod who has to look through your cover letter will be ecstatic.

Disclaimer

Obviously this does not guarantee you will get an interview. But it significantly improves the chances of the interviewer discovering the relevant bits of your experience.

When you create a cover letter or CV or any other document - think about the reader's user experience. This isn't an exercise in writing beautiful prose in iambic pentameter. This isn't the time to stroke your own ego. You are making it easy for the reviewer to quickly see if you meet the requirements for each section.

That's it.

Imagine that you're trying to look through a page of A4 to see if the candidate even mentions their teamwork experience. Then you have to scan through again looking for sales experience. Urgh! Infuriating!

Secret Rules

I loath the idea of "secret" rules. For example, the nonsense idea that you must write a thank-you note to your interviewer. They are discriminatory practices which are designed to enforce a monoculture.

But this isn't a secret rule. Most adverts say something like: "Please supply a CV covering your work history, and a covering letter explaining your suitability."

And no one is going to junk your application just because you don't follow my advice. They'll just find it slightly harder to see why you're a good fit.

I also hate gimmicky tips like send your application in a gold envelope.

But this isn't a gimmick. It's a pragmatic way to answer the question you've been set.

I wish the recruitment industry would junk the idea of cover letters and move to structured forms. Perhaps it is slightly dehumanising to ask people to fill in a dozen little boxes. And maybe it is annoying for candidates to reformat their applications for every job. And maybe I should drop half the CVs in the bin to avoid employing unlucky people.

Either way. To improve your chances of getting an interview - and to improve my chances of retaining my sanity - please consider how you structure your cover letter.

Regeneration: You were expecting someone else?

@edent — Mon, 31 Jan 2022 12:34:55 +0000

Twenty-Twenty-Two is Twenty-Twenty-NEW. Yup - time for me to regenerate into a new job. To recap - five years ago, I started at GDS in the Open Standards Team. Two-and-a-bit years later, I took a 6 months secondment to NHSX to do Open Standards. Eighteen months later, they finally let me go. I joined the Data Standards Authority to do - you guessed it - Open Standards!

I've been banging on about Open Standards for what feels like forever. I've worked with a vast array of vastly talented people. Written some well received policies and guidance. Presented to Ministers - and anyone else who'll listen. Travelled the world. All in service of Open Standards. I've had occasional forays into Open Data and Open Source. But the majority of time has been me saying "have you considered using an open standard?"⁰

I'm incredibly proud of all that I've achieved - both in the Civil Service and NHS - but I am a little tired. I'm weary of getting stereotyped, I'm conscious that I haven't succeed at everything I wanted¹. I'm also acutely aware that it is probably time for someone else to have a go. I know I need to expand my horizons and get stuck in to something different.

So, now it is time to move on. I'm not moving very far. Still in CDDO - which is part of Cabinet Office².

Am I part of "The Great Resignation"? I don't think so. I'm staying at the same firm. I'm staying on the same grade and salary³. I'm certainly staying in the same home-office!

My new job title? The somewhat-cumbersome "Senior Technical Architect for Domains". Basically, if it ends with .gov.uk - I'm interested. It is time for me to get my hands dirty helping people build, maintain, and protect the UK Government's domain names.

Perhaps I should have titled this blog post: "Stay calm. Just one question: Do you happen to know how to fly this thing?"

2022 is going to be different!

OK, it is a bit more complicated than that. ↩︎
Buy me a drink some time… ↩︎
This is a personal blog etc. etc. ↩︎
OK, if we're being technical, last year I was re-graded as a G7 Specialist Technical Architect at the top of the DDaT band - so I'm keeping that allowance. ↩︎

How many of my colleagues are replicants?

@edent — Fri, 19 Nov 2021 12:34:35 +0000

I hate the way modern workplaces make you beg for feedback. Something about the forcing of humanity into little boxes and vague sentiments really gets my goat.

So, this year, I added an extra question to my validation-seeking questionnaire. As well as asking how I did this year, what I could do better, where we can work together in the future etc etc blah blah - I added a little bonus. A multiple choice question from the Voight-Kampff test.

And, to my delight, my colleagues answered!

What does this say about my colleagues? Only that they're all good sports and I'm almost certain fewer than three of them are replicants. Which is pretty good for a modern workplace.

OK, there's a semi-serious side to this. Work can be a little dull and dehumanising. We're more than just robots clicking next on little boxes. I think it is important to pepper life with small interludes of silliness and joy. Even if, sometimes, you're the only one laughing.

Weeknotes - Lustrum

@edent — Fri, 15 Oct 2021 11:34:07 +0000

lustrum

lŭs′trəm

A ceremonial purification of the entire ancient Roman population after the census every five years.

A period of five years.

Five long years ago I quit my job in the mobile industry and started working for the Civil Service. It has been an "interesting" period!

On a personal level, I've gone from GDS, to NHSX, back to GDS, and transformed into CDDO. I've started an MSc as an apprentice. I've travelled the world - although somewhat less in the last 18 months! And worked with some truly incredible people.

I've also written lots of blog posts which I haven't published. Little notes to myself, mostly. I'm sure they'll see the light one day - far in the future. There's a delicate line between working in the open and opening oneself up to unsolicited abuse.

But, that said, here's a few things that I've picked up over the last few years stalking the corridors of power.

Working with the best and the brightest can be intimidating. You have to be really sure of yourself when contradicting someone. As I've found to my peril, I am sometimes the expert in the room - and I have to work hard to be less intimidating. My mid-year feedback reflects that I have mixed success with this.
Some people are wrong. There's an art to correcting people which I've yet to fully master. But it is an invaluable skill to politely correct someone and give them time to realise their mistake and room to back down gracefully.
Politicians can be very different from the characters they play on TV. I remember a few years ago being invited along to a meeting with one of the "main characters" from Twitter. I was terrified. In the end, they ran an excellent meeting, listened carefully, understood the (contradictory) advice they received, and helped us to produce some excellent work. The show that people put on in public is often wildly different from how they act in a professional setting. That's something which takes some getting used to.
Public sector waste and inefficiency is about the same as the private sector. Probably lower as shareholders rarely audit what a FTSE100 has been frittering away money on. You can't get to perfect accountability for every penny - nor can you make sure no one is nicking Post-It™ notes to use at home. But I've never seen anyone burn money on pointless corporate rebranding like I did when I worked in the private sector.
Not everyone wants you to succeed. There are some very loud voices on social media who will delight in pointing out just how wrong you've got something and how little you know about delivery. These people - in my experience - mostly don't know what they're talking about. They've never had to manage large and complex projects, nor do they have the faintest idea about the challenges you face. Some of them have tried repeatedly to get a job in your department - and failed repeatedly; that leaves them bitter. Best to ignore their bleating.
Seeing your work in the mainstream press, or nightly news, is exhilarating and chilling.
People's passion sometimes leads them astray. I'm particularly guilty of only seeing things through the lens of my work. If you are, say, an accessibility specialist then it is hard to understand the point of view of, say, a security specialist. And vice-versa. I've been involved in protracted arguments where experts in their field are completely blinkered to someone else's reality. That's a real danger when you have people focussed exclusively on one area. Don't get me wrong, I'd rather have these discussions than not, but sometimes you need to concede that other people have valid points.

What's Next?

Half-a-decade is a looooong time. I'm conscious that I've been at the same grade (and pay) for quite some time. Moving upwards usually means line-managing people - which isn't my comfort zone. It can also mean moving away from hands-on work.

I'm stretching myself with my studies. And I'm participating in some really exciting projects. But I occasionally hear myself say "well, when we tried that four years ago…" and I'm not sure how I feel about that. Am I a wise old hand, or someone stuck in the past?

There's a lot of talk of The Great Resignation. My employers have been fantastically supportive to me - my WFH equipment is paid for, there's no pressure to come back to the physical office, they make sure I'm taking enough time for holidays and funerals. But there are some things which are outwith their control. Pay is the big one - I didn't join the Civil Service to make Facebook-amounts of cash, but I also didn't expect a long-lasting pay-freeze. Of course, the seaweed is always greener in somebody else's lake…

Perhaps I'll pour my excess energy into writing that book, or doing more electronics, or re-learning Chinese?

Or perhaps not. Time will tell.

Outdated Advice For Job Applicants

@edent — Fri, 03 Sep 2021 11:32:29 +0000

I was recently asked to look at some advice for new graduates entering the workforce. It was the usual mix of helpful, obvious, and trite. You know the sort - tailor your application to the job specification, make sure your CV is spelled correctly, don't give up, etc.

In the middle of it, was this doozy. "Put your application in a gold coloured envelope so it stands out from the crowd!"

This struck me as… unusual advice. But I checked against the Twitter hive mind.

I remember, during my first job hunt, being told by well-meaning advisers to "walk into the office, ask to speak to the manager, and hand over your CV! Remember a firm handshake!"

Even at the fag-end of the last century (why am I so old?!) this was objectively terrible advice. Most places wanted you to fill in a standardised application form. Sure, there were a handful of small places which would take an unsolicited CV - but they were extremely rare. And, frankly, not the sort of places which would be a springboard for a career.

Today... I can't even remember the last time I posted off a job application. Most of the things I see don't even have a postal address available. It's either "fill in this crappy online form…" or "send an email to…" or "attend this webinar to register…"

I've run dozens of recruitment campaigns - at senior and junior level - and I can't ever remember receiving a physical application form.

Would there be some novelty in receiving a coloured envelope? Sure! But I doubt I'd see it. Assuming the mail reached the right member of staff (who is probably WFH) - they'll be on the HR team. They're not going to care about one envelope - just whether you've put the right keywords to make it past the sift.

Of course, maybe my rarefied tech-industry lifestyle has left me ignorant to what things are like in the "real world". I don't doubt there are some industries where turning up unsolicited with a CV is a good way to get a foot in the door. And I'm sure some businesses run mainly on snail-mail. And having an online-only application discriminates against the digitally excluded.

But giving this sort of outdated advice to new entrants in the job market is just cruel.

The unreasonable effectiveness of simple HTML

@edent — Tue, 26 Jan 2021 12:51:27 +0000

I've told this story at conferences - but due to the general situation I thought I'd retell it here.

A few years ago I was doing policy research in a housing benefits office in London. They are singularly unlovely places. The walls are brightened up with posters offering helpful services for people fleeing domestic violence. The security guards on the door are cautiously indifferent to anyone walking in. The air is filled with tense conversations between partners - drowned out by the noise of screaming kids.

In the middle, a young woman sits on a hard plastic chair. She is surrounded by canvas-bags containing her worldly possessions. She doesn't look like she is in a great emotional place right now. Clutched in her hands is a games console - a PlayStation Portable. She stares at it intensely; blocking out the world with Candy Crush.

Or, at least, that's what I thought.

Walking behind her, I glance at her console and recognise the screen she's on. She's connected to the complementary WiFi and is browsing the GOV.UK pages on Housing Benefit. She's not slicing fruit; she's arming herself with knowledge.

The PSP's web browser is - charitably - pathetic. It is slow, frequently runs out of memory, and can only open 3 tabs at a time.

But the GOV.UK pages are written in simple HTML. They are designed to be lightweight and will work even on rubbish browsers. They have to. This is for everyone.

Not everyone has a big monitor, or a multi-core CPU burning through the teraflops, or a broadband connection.

The photographer Chase Jarvis coined the phrase "the best camera is the one that’s with you". He meant that having a crappy instamatic with you at an important moment is better than having the best camera in the world locked up in your car.

The same is true of web browsers. If you have a smart TV, it probably has a crappy browser.

My old car had a built-in crappy web browser.

Both are painful to use - but they work!

If your laptop and phone both got stolen - how easily could you conduct online life through the worst browser you have? If you have to file an insurance claim online - will you get sent a simple HTML form to fill in, or a DOCX which won't render?

What vital information or services are forbidden to you due to being trapped in PDFs or horrendously complicated web sites?

Are you developing public services? Or a system that people might access when they're in desperate need of help? Plain HTML works. A small bit of simple CSS will make look decent. JavaScript is probably unnecessary - but can be used to progressively enhance stuff. Add alt text to images so people paying per MB can understand what the images are for (and, you know, accessibility).

Go sit in an uncomfortable chair, in an uncomfortable location, and stare at an uncomfortably small screen with an uncomfortably outdated web browser. How easy is it to use the websites you've created?

I chatted briefly to the young woman afterwards. She'd been kicked out by her parents and her friends had given her the bus fare to the housing benefits office. She had nothing but praise for how helpful the staff had been. I asked about the PSP - a hand-me-down from an older brother - and the web browser. Her reply was "It's shit. But it worked."

I think that's all we can strive for.

Here are some stats on games consoles visiting GOV.UK

All Good Things

@edent — Fri, 31 Jul 2020 11:07:03 +0000

Well, that was a whirlwind!

After 18-months at NHSX, my 6-month temporary secondment has reached its end.

It's always hard when a job finishes. The secondment was twice extended, and that let me carry on defining open technology standards for the NHS. Now it is over and I'm a bit sad. The pandemic seems to heighten all emotions, doesn't it?

I'm luckier than most. I'm still employed. The whole point of a secondment is a short-term loan to share skills and experiences. I'm returning to my home department - GDS. So I'm still fighting the good fight on open technology.

Change, however difficult, is necessary. The people you want to kick-start an organisation are not necessarily those you need to sustain an organisation. Teams need to grow and evolve - as do I.

In my head, I know it's right for me to move on. I'm not sure that makes it easier.

The team back in 'X are fantastic and are doing great things. I hope that I've left a little bit of legacy there. And I can't wait to see what they achieve next.

For now, as ever, onwards and upwards!

A few highlights, in Tweet form.

A holiday is a great way to prevent a messiah complex

@edent — Fri, 05 Jun 2020 11:02:12 +0000

Last Monday was a Bank Holiday in the UK. The Tuesday was a "Privilege Day" - a day off for Civil Servants for the Queen's birthday. Thursday was my wife's birthday - which I had booked off ages ago. So I decided to cash in my TOIL and take Wednesday and Friday as holidays as well.

Including weekends, that made for nine days off in the glorious British sunshine. Stuck at home, sure, but nine days where I didn't have to think about work.

I love my job and, if truth be told, probably get a little obsessed over it. But the constant late nights and occasional weekend working was getting to me. I know I have it a lot easier than many other people. But it doesn't stop the sleepless nights, stress headaches, and constant worry.

The worst of it - I was believing my own hype. It's so tempting to say "I'm the only one keeping this ship afloat!" or "They wouldn't know what to do without me!" or "Essential is my middle name!"

It's bullshit, of course. Almost no one is indispensable.

In my week off, I got contacted a few times. Once was for an issue I thought I'd fixed before I left, and the rest were things which could easily wait. I returned to work on Monday and… nothing was on fire. There were a couple of things which could probably have been done better had I been there. But nothing disastrous.

There were a boatload of emails to ~~delete unread~~ carefully consider. Many GitHub issues to triage. And a only one grumpy Slack message. Result!

Obviously, I am just one of many people working as hard as they can to make things better. Working together, in union, is the only way to get anything done.

A huge thanks both to my manager for agreeing to the time off - and to our CEO and leadership team for constantly telling us that our mental and physical health are essential.

When part of your job is not caring

@edent — Fri, 01 May 2020 07:07:40 +0000

Many years ago, when I worked at Vodafone, we had a senior network engineer give us a talk about keeping the network stable in the hours after the 7/7 bombings.

He was completely dispassionate. He spoke about analysing network traffic, predicting demand spikes, routing around damage, physically securing sites, supporting the emergency services - and all the minutiae that goes in to running a complex system during an emergency.

He then explained that his wife worked in Central London and his children were in school there.

He had friends and relatives who were probably in the vicinity of the attacks.

Obviously, the sheer human pain of the situation was evident.

And his job was not to care. Being able to keep the network running relied on him and his team not caring about the humanity of the situation.

The team executed their plan perfectly. They looked coolly at the numbers. Took a pragmatic approach to their responses. And tried really hard not to think about what was happening outside their management centre.

And at the end of the day, once the network was stable, he went home and cried.

I've no idea whether paramedics feel the same way when trying to save the life of a person. If a firefighter cutting a human out of twisted wreckage disassociates the actions they're taking from the life in front of them.

I feel a little weird when I see people in the news talk about "excess mortality". It's such a... clinical phrase. Each one of those in the "excess" column was a person.

And, sometimes, my work involves making choices which could involve large numbers of people. I simply cannot think about them as individuals. No one's brain has room to contemplate the pain and joy and heartbreak and elation of so many people. It is unfair of me to care about any one person more than another.

I react to the information I have in front of me. I'm not the philosopher Jeremy Bentham engaging in a felicific calculus exercise - I'm trying to stay calm. To not get overwhelmed so that I can continue operating effectively.

Part of my job is not caring.

And then I go stay home and feel like crying.

My WFH Set Up

@edent — Tue, 14 Apr 2020 11:57:12 +0000

Inspired by my friend Meri's WFH Setup Tips, I thought I'd share my home-working setup.

We've moved house recently, so I'm still finding my feet - but as I work from home fairly often, and have a bit of RSI, I thought I'd show you what I've got and how I use it.

The desk is just a plain IKEA table. Supplemented with a cheap Argos desk which didn't quite fit all my kit - so it becomes a side desk.

Floor

Much like Alec Guinness, I start with the the shoes. I don't wear any at home, and my floor is cold wood laminate. So I use a toilet mat!

Look, I know it sounds daft, but scrunching up my toes on a bit of carpet is relaxing. The mat was part of a set, and has never been used in the bathroom.

Power

Nothing gets done without electricity. I use a Meross smart surge protector.

Each socket can be switched using an app, and the 4 USB ports can supply 2.4 Amps. Good for charging all the gadgets I have.

I also use a powered USB hub. So many problems with a MacBook's accessories are due to weird power requirements.

Input

The MicroSoft 4000 is the best ergonomic keyboard in the world.

The mouse is a ridiculously expensive Evoluent Vertical Mouse.

I'm using an older one - I have several - because I left my best one at work. The shut-down order came in a hurry, so I didn't have time to pick it up.

Display

A new addition! My work has generously given me a small budget for a screen. It's the Iiyama ProLite B2482HS-B1 24". I read lots of long documents - so a vertical monitor is an absolute necessity.

I've been using multiple monitors since 2001 - and I've never lost the habit.

Lighting

This is so important - especially if you're doing an important presentation. Webcams look shit in low light.

It's just a standard lamp with a WiFi controlled LIFX bulb. I can change the colour to match my mood. I've only once had to switch it to BRIGHT RED when on a video call.

Ideally, I'd have one of those fancy circular lights - like proper YouTubers.

Phone

I've upcycled an old car dashboard phone holder into a desk phone holder. It's like a really inefficient third monitor. Having it at eye level is useful - for glancing at Twitter and WhatsApp video calls.

Sound

I finally found some USB-C powered Bluetooth Headphones - the Life Q10 from Anker.

I tend to use those for listening to music when working. I normally use my laptop's built in speaker and mic for calls.

Occasionally, I do strap on a headset. I hate the way they make me look like a cheap pilot.

It's a Plantronic's Mono. The best thing about it is the physical mute button. Handy for making sure no-one can hear you howling.

A phone holder with wireless charging would make life easier, but I'd also need a phone which supports it.

There are a bunch of cheap-ish standing desks Might be nice?

So, go on then, rate my rig! Or, share yours!