No Strategy Time

Dan Stifter

“Strategy is easy and execution is hard. “ Anyone not heard that before? Bueller?

Couple more classics: “Strategy is about choices.” Hard to disagree with that one.

“Do more with less.” If you haven’t heard or said this, well, hope you’re enjoying your trust fund.

These all appear insightful, but none of them dig deep enough to provide any actual guidance or help.

Execution is hard, and hardly any organization consistently does strategic change well. I see and hear this all the time in the classes I teach, the companies I consult with, and customers of my software firm.

We’re all smart, work hard and care deeply, right? And we all think we’re better at strategy than Machiavelli. So why is strategic change so hard?

Inertia
Fundamentally, we don’t like change. And we don’t really like to think. We want to get up, make the coffee, feed the dog, ignore any Kardashian news while consuming cute pet videos, drive to work and get on with our day. We get SO irritated when anything interrupts our morning routine or our driving routine or our email routine and requires us to actually think.

Inertia prevents us from thinking deeply since the reality is we really don’t think that much in any given day, we mostly react. When was the last time you stopped answering emails or writing a presentation to go have a good think about your strategy and what was really going on with your business? How many hours at work this week did you spend focusing specifically on longer term issues and initiatives?

Optimism/Culture
Another huge culprit for the lack of strategic success is optimism and the culture of almost every organization. It’s not that we don’t like optimism, although hardly anything is more annoying when others are optimistic about stuff they don’t know squat about. But optimism gets companies to say yes to everything, and progress gets to be harder and harder as staffs have become leaner.

Culturally, the boss needs to show lots of activity, and cutting strategic imperatives is rarely a career builder. I had a boss at Coke (where brutalizing employees was an art form) who when I asked for help in setting priorities, said “your priority is to get everything done, and if you can’t do it, I’ll find someone who will.” That’s an actual quote. That’s the norm in our highly competitive world where you believe you’re failing if you don’t try and do every single possible activity that might remotely be a good thing.

Organizations consistently over estimate what they can accomplish in a year. One of the minor functionalities of the strategic planning software that my firm sells is that it adds up time people are expected to spend on strategic initiatives. You know the drill, the annual planning process comes around, you all agree on goals and objectives, and you get put on a bunch of teams to go get strategic stuff done. You can’t really say no to any of them because you like to eat regularly, and you’re off to the races.

There’s always too much work
Our software shows us that organizations typically sign up for about 5 times the amount of work they actually have the capacity to deliver. 5 times. That can be the the equivalent of 10 or more full time employees. Why? Because we’re engaged and want to try to make things better. We’re optimistic. And because no one tells the boss, “yeah, I don’t have time to work on strategic priorities number 3 -5, maybe I can get to that next year.”

So strategy is first about good choices, but strategic success comes from truly understanding organizational capacity and the true amount of work those strategic choices require to come to life.

Learn how to say no, and make it stick. Say “yes” to the most impactful one or two strategic imperatives and actually focus and make adequate resources available to making them happen.

A useful routine is to block out time time several hours per week to do nothing but think about and work on strategy. If you don’t purposefully build it into your routine, the “tyranny of the now” and endless meetings, emails, and fire drills will continually keep you from making any strategic progress.

But first, be bold and make a choice. Then say no to things that won’t get accomplished this year anyway.

Photo by rawpixel on Unsplash

Establishing a causal relationship is hard. Evaluating a causal claim isn’t as difficult.

Dr. Brian Anderson

In a recent WSJ column, Christopher Mims borrows from behavioral economics to offer an explanation for “Why the world seems worse than it is.” The details of the column aren’t important for this post, but a passage caught my attention…

Sometimes known as the availability heuristic, this bias is one reason parents are afraid to let children play unsupervised, though it’s never been safer to be a child in America.

Briefly, the availability bias/heuristic posits that the more recent a piece of information, and particularly information where a person can easily recall the consequences of that information (such as frightening news), the more salient the information is, and the more likely a person is to rely on that information—irrespective of its veracity—to inform a future decision. Mr. Mims posits that the availability heuristic, heightened by the nonstop barrage of information online, is the mechanism for the quote above and also “why people are afraid of shark attacks, even though they’re more likely to drown at the beach.”

Lets leave aside whether the availability heuristic is a true causal mechanism that explains why parents are afraid to let children play unsupervised, and just assume that it is possible. If we were to lay out the causal chain, it might look something like this…

Exposure to Frightening News→Increased Parent Supervision

How might we go about evaluating whether we should put much stock in Mr. Mims’ causal claim, without using sophisticated causal inference frameworks like the Rubin casual model or structural causal modeling?

Start with a thought experiment

One approach is to use a thought experiment to imagine different variables and manipulations for the predictor variable, in this case, exposure to frightening news. For example, we might say that the frightening news was an attempted abduction of a child. To a parent, this is truly horrific, and so it is easy to conclude that a normal reaction would be to increase parent supervision.

Now consider another example, recently in the news, about a parent receiving a visit from child protective services for allowing her 8-year old daughter to take a dog for a walk by herself. To one parent, a visit from protective services might be truly frightening, and so his or her response is to increase parental supervision. But to another parent—and judging by the social media reaction to the story—some might react to the news by decreasing supervision, perhaps in a form of protest.

The key point is that because we can imagine a realistic scenario in which exposure to frightening news does not always increase parent supervision, there is the possibility that meaningful contextual factors, or boundary conditions, are necessary to fully understand when frightening news leads to parental supervision, and when does may not. That is, there might be another important predictor out there—one that might change the nature of the impact frightening news has on parental supervision. If that’s the case, even without knowing what that specific predictor or contextual factor is, we should be a bit skeptical about the strength of the claim and its applicability.

Consider the assumptions

Another approach is to think through the assumptions. Mr. Mims posits that the availability heuristic causes increased parental supervision, “though it’s never been safer to be a child in America.” The implication seems to be that parents are cognizant that it’s very safe today to be an American kid, but despite that knowledge, exposure to frightening news increases supervision, which may not be needed because America is so safe today.

Lets use this assumption that people are aware that it much safer today for American kids than in the past. It seems plausible that people may associate increased supervision with increased safety; after all, the frightening event could be a situation in which a child’s safety may have increased if parental supervision would have been present. In the aggregate then, we would expect knowledge of America being safer for kids not necessarily as an assumption, but as a logical consequence of increased supervision. So in reality, our causal chain may look something like this…

Exposure to Frightening News→Increased Parent Supervision→Kids Are Safer

In this case, one of the assumptions underlying the strength of the causal claim that exposure to frightening event causes increased supervision despite knowing that America is safer for kids today is not nearly as strong if parents are also aware that increasing supervision, in the aggregate, causes America to be safer.

Of course, we are still assuming causality here between exposure to frightening news and increased supervision, but it’s not nearly as strong—increased supervision is simply the mechanism, or mediator, that connects exposure to frightening news to the more important outcome variable, kids being safe. When we put this possibility together with the possibility of contextual factors at play, our skepticism about the causal claims made in the column should increase.

Alternate explanations

Another way to question causal claims is to think about alternate explanations. An alternate explanation is a different causal variable that explains the observed outcome. Lets keep going with the assumption that people are aware that America is safer today, and that they assume that increased parental supervision improves kid safety. Mr. Mims also posits that “it’s never been safer to be a child in America.” The implication is that, in the past, America was less safe for kids, and considering our earlier assumptions, it is reasonable also that parents are aware that in the past America wasn’t as safe.

If we take a step back, time seems to be an important part of Mr. Mims’ argument. In the past, America wasn’t as safe for kids. Parents recognized that America wasn’t as safe, so they increased parental supervision. The net result is that kids are safer today.

So lets put together a new causal model based on parents knowing that America wasn’t as safe in the past, and that they assume increasing supervision increases safety.

Kids Safety in the Past→Increased Parent Supervision→Kids Safety Today

What doesn’t appear in the causal chain? Exposure to a frightening event.

In the model above, assuming similar conditions by Mr. Mims, parents are aware that America wasn’t as safe before, so they decide to increase supervision as a result, which then causes safety to improve. This is an alternate causal model, one that is equally plausible given the same observations about parental supervision and kids safety Mr. Mims uses in the column, but explains a change in parent supervision without exposure to a frightening event as a causal mechanism.

Of course, the original causal model could be accurate; but so could our alternate models.

When you put together the likelihood of boundary conditions, assumptions that weaken the causal claims, and now alternate causal explanations, we are rightly skeptical about the causal claims in the column.

So what to do?

I really do not mean to criticize Mr. Mims column, and his thesis may well be valid. But as we have shown, his thesis may also be invalid. The hard reality is that establishing causal relationships is devilishly difficult, and in the social sciences sphere, truly, exceptionally, challenging.

Truth be told, I think the most useful part of the column comes near the end, where Mr. Mims quotes psychology professor Steven Pinker…

I’m always skeptical of now-more-than-ever observations that are not backed up by time-series data, since they themselves can be products of the availability heuristic and may be inaccurate.

So true. To Dr. Pinker’s point I would add that even with time-series data, absent taking steps to eliminate alternate explanations and confounding factors, skepticism is the safe response to these kind of causal claims.

“First rule of leadership: everything is your fault.” Hopper, A Bugs Life

Dan Stifter, MBA

Everyone looks in the mirror and think they’re looking at a natural born leader with all the best attributes of Captain America and Wonder Woman. But according to Gallup, 82% of managers are pretty much complete failures. Less than 1 out of 10 are really qualify as “leaders.” While “managing” is different than “leading,” it’s a close enough proxy to demonstrate that there are very, very few good, much less great leaders out there.

“The first responsibility of a leader is to define reality. The last is to say thank you. In between, the leader is a servant.” — Max DePree

Want to be a better leader? I strongly believe in Jack Welch’s perspective that “if the rate of change on the outside exceeds the rate of change on the inside, the end is in sight.” In other words, if you’re not changing as a leader, the continuously changing environment will sneak up behind you like a vampire that doesn’t look anything like Edward and suck the life out of you.

Many people think desirable leadership behaviors are things like aggression, extroversion, self-confidence and competence. Yet study after study shows that the two most important leadership behaviors are sensitivity and being articulate. Look at the Max DePree quote – defining reality really doesn’t take up much time, most of leadership is about communicating and executing the plan. Communicating and guiding the vision and helping your team achieve more is the essence of leadership.

What’s the solution? Personal insight and growth. When you were 12 years old you probably wanted to be a “leader” so that you could just tell everyone what to do. Unfortunately, the real world is nothing like that. Autocratic bosses are so North Korea, and that’s clearly not a winning strategy. The first true step of leadership is understanding yourself, how others perceive you, and learning how to use your skills effectively. And you may not like doing it, but that all starts with a journey of personal reflection and growth.

Know Thyself

There are a ton of on-line tools out there to help you figure out your Emotional Intelligence. EQ has four components: self-awareness, social awareness (empathy), self-management, and relationship management (social skill.) Self-awareness must come first. “Know thyself” isn’t about being master of your domain, it’s about truly understanding how your behaviors are perceived by others. Want to be an effective leader? Find out how others see you.

Steve Jobs notoriously lacked self-awareness. It literally got him kicked out of the company he founded. He never became great at managing his EQ, but he had to get better to be successful and ultimately of course he personally grew enough to get to the point where he took Apple from being a relatively small niche company to the most valuable company the world has ever seen.

Becoming a leader is a lifelong pursuit; it is not an event, it’s a process. Start processing.

A Recent Graduate’s Reflections on the Executive MBA Experience

Since 2015, a student from each graduating class has been invited to write an entry into the Bloch Executive MBA Legacy Journal reflecting on their journey and offering advice to future students. Thomas Kepka, Director of Marketing at U.S. Engineering Company Holdings, prepared the following reflection for the Class of 2018.

“It’s August 2016, and I’m walking parallel to Brush Creek on the Plaza. Approaching Seasons 52, the sun is bright above the western horizon. People crowd the sidewalk, some moving with purpose to destinations awaiting them. Others meander without any apparent target in mind. Each seemingly unaware of the story that is unfolding for the person next to him or her. I am among the purpose-driven. I have a specific destination in mind, but as I reach for the door, I momentarily pause to acknowledge the sounds that would soon be muffled. The traffic, the splashing fountain, the conversations. I pass through the threshold, and I am briefly blinded by the darkness. This is definitely a different world than the one I had just left. It is quiet; the rush of dinnertime has not yet arrived. But that rush will assuredly come, and as I navigate my way through the empty restaurant, I question how this will go.”

The paragraph above was adapted from the reflection paper I submitted during the Leadership Residency. I confess that because this is my first tip: If you’ve written something in one class that works for another, repurpose it. You’re busy, and you have to manage your time. It doesn’t happen all that often, but when it does, embrace it.

That said, I deliberately reach back to that moment because that team meeting at Seasons 52 was a very important one in my EMBA experience. Entering the program, I was a little unsure whether I belonged. Perhaps you feel that way right now too. Or perhaps you’re beaming with confidence. Either way, at Seasons 52 during the Leadership Residency, I sat at a table with a group of people that were essentially strangers. We got to know each other. We sized each other up. We began the process of acclimating to the grind of the EMBA and the people that would share that experience. Maybe you’re wondering if these people are going to compete with you or try to help you. In my experience, classmates are your support system, not your rivals.

For me, I realized that I belonged in that seat. And while I didn’t realize it at the time, the people that sat at that table—as well as the rest of the cohort—became the most important part of the EMBA experience. The people are the experience. You’ll have wonderful times as well as painful ones with classmates. You’ll be amazed by people in both good and bad ways. You’ll grow. You’ll see others grow. You’ll develop great friendships. You’ll learn so much from them. You’ll teach them as well. Of course, it’s OK to mute the group chat that’s buzzing through the night, especially if you’re trying to sleep in Washington D.C. while others are still learning about what the nation’s capital has to offer.

In addition to the people, the program presents unique opportunities that I will always cherish. Obviously, the residencies away from Kansas City stand out. Our class went to Central Europe, visiting Budapest and Prague. The class before us went to Vietnam, and the class after us appears to be headed to Portugal. It’s incredible to experience the cultures, talk with local people, learn from international business people, and witness how classmates interact outside of Kansas City. By the way, if the letters “SSSS” are printed on your boarding pass, expect special attention from airport security.

For me, much of my success in the program is because of the support system at home. Clearly, if you have a family, the EMBA is an investment and a commitment from more than just you. While I understand everyone has a different situation, and this might not be applicable to you, I wanted to give my wife a platform to share her thoughts on how we were able to get through the program as a family. She is a saint who has incredible patience and strength, and I owe much of my success to her.

Dear EMBA adventurer,

Congratulations on the 2-year journey upon which you are embarking. I am the spouse of a recently graduated student and was asked to share my perspective. Though the journey was foggy on my end, I have just a few items of advice:

Keep the communication open and honest about expectations on a weekly, if not daily basis. Start in the very beginning. If you are holding a full-time job during this time, you will basically be unavailable. It was incredibly helpful for Thomas to put in expected study/school times in our shared Apple calendar, including actual class time and homework time during the evenings/weekends. It helped keep things balanced, as much as it can be (we have two young and involved children). Communication also includes making each other aware of how grateful you are for each other’s hard work and dedication to your goals. Verbalize the gratitude constantly. It’s simple and offers daily saving graces.

Share experiences. Any of them. It helps guarantee face-to-face time and eliminates the alienation of your spouse. Talk about frustrations, successes, classmates you enjoy, classmates you have trouble with, fascinating teachers, anxieties and especially things that you will undoubtedly learn about yourself throughout the grind.

Towards the end, I remember a simple conversation that describes the last couple of weeks. It went like this: Spouse: “I have some work to do, is there anything you need first?” Me: “NO! Just go get it all done!” (This ship was sinking.)

It’s not about grand gestures. If you find you have five or ten minutes of free time, you can save the ship by simply asking that very question – what can I do before I disappear again? Doing seemingly small tasks frequently is exceptionally helpful and maintains your awareness of each other’s struggles.

Blessings and Good Luck!

Again, your experience and situation will be different. I just encourage you to make efforts to give time to those you care about. You will have a life, by the way. You’ll just have to manage it well. The workload does ebb and flow. Enjoy the summer, and just keep pushing when you get back for Year 2.

I’m actually writing this in July, which means I have had a couple months beyond graduation to reflect. The first thing I’ve noticed since graduation reiterates what I have said earlier. When you graduate, you’ll miss those friends you gained along the way. Keep in touch with them. I’m not very good at keeping in touch, but I’m going to be deliberate in doing so. I suggest you do too.

However, while you miss the people, I have not found a single person that has missed the work. There was a lot of energy at that table in Seasons 52, but eventually it turned into a grind, and the enthusiasm turned to surviving the marathon. To be clear, everyone I have talked to is glad they took this journey (even the vocal complainers), but everyone was ready to move on by the end.

Except, of course, when it’s all done, you might find something is missing or you might be asking yourself, “Now what?” My wife tells the story of the first marathon she ran. She trained for months; she worked her ass off. Then she finally ran the race, and she did great. The only problem was that all the work she had done culminated in this one moment and now it was over. She likened it to postpartum depression. I don’t have the qualifications to make that kind of comparison, but there have certainly been mixed emotions since May. There’s the joy of being done. There’s the satisfaction and pride of the accomplishment. There’s also the question of what’s next. There might be a void because something that was so integral in your life is now gone.

I’ve drawn the parallel to a marathon a couple times, so in concluding this entry, I will stay on the theme. Completing a marathon is just about taking steps. That’s easy. You can take steps. Likewise, there’s no task in the EMBA that is too difficult for you. You can do everything the EMBA has to throw at you. The trick is to do it over and over again over a two-year period. You can do it, and you will be better for it. You will have a lot of fun, and you will have frustration, but just keep stepping.

Good luck on your journey. You’ll be glad you took it.

Three things I am doing to improve my writing

Dr. Brian Anderson

This article resonated with me. It talks about the difference between what literary critics regard as preeminent American literature, and what Americans enjoy reading. Kirsch writes…

Another way of putting it is that when Americans read, we mostly read for story, not for style. We want to know what happens next, and not to be slowed down by writing that calls attention to itself. According to one familiar indictment of modern literature, today’s literary writers are unpopular precisely because they have lost interest in telling stories and become obsessed with technique. In the 20th century, the argument goes, literature became esoteric, self-regarding and difficult, losing both the storytelling power and the mass readership that writers like Balzac, Dickens and Twain had enjoyed.

I couldn’t help but think about the parallels to academic writing. I’m a big fan of Helen Sword’s work, and her books are go-to resources for my PhD students and in my own work as an editor. Sword makes an analogous argument as Kirsch about academic writing, and I couldn’t agree more with her perspective. Most academic writing—including my own—is darn hard to read. Not because of complicated concepts, but because the writing does not engage the reader. It is almost as if we (professors) write to hear ourselves talk!

In the last year or so I’ve made a conscious effort to improve my writing. The main goal is to make my writing more approachable and more enjoyable to read. When I say enjoyable, I am not trying to make an academic paper read like Jurassic Park. My enjoyable metric is a reader who is a) not exhausted by reading something I wrote; and b) finds what I wrote useful.

So here are three things I’m doing to improve my writing…

Keep the (normal) reader in mind

I often use complicated language, jargon, and phrasing in my writing. What I’ve found is that the more complicated my writing, the less clarity I have in my mind about what I want to say. If it isn’t clear to me it won’t be clear to my reader, and complicated writing reflects less clarity of thought. I’m not the first writer to stumble on this concept.

One trick that I’m having some success with is, well, talking to myself. I imagine that I am talking to another professor—an academic, but one not familiar with my topic. What do I say? How do I say it? Then I write down what I’ve said, and start a new round of questions—is that what I meant to say? Am I being clear? Would “other me” believe my argument? It’s an internal dialogue, going back and forth between writer and reader. As an aside, this technique has also helped me make what I write more useful—at least that is the goal!

Use software

I haven’t yet found the silver bullet software tool for grammar and sentence construction. I usually write in R markdown and Google Docs, and neither of those platforms have native grammar tools. But I do have a collection of indispensable tools.

The first is The Writer’s Diet from Helen Sword. I like the simple “diagnosis” of a writing sample, and to be able to see where I need to focus to make it better. For example, the first draft of this post “needs toning” (and it still does because of all the darn verbs!).

The second tool I use is Hemingway Editor. I have an adverb problem, and the tool flags my problem areas. I also like the passive voice flag, and the suggestions for simpler alternatives.

My third tool, and one reason MS Word still has a place on laptop, is the native grammar and style checker. Again, it’s not a silver bullet, but that little blue squiggly line remains a helpful tool to identify grammatical errors. The MS Word grammar tool is how I learned to write in active voice, and I often tell students not to turn in a deliverable if it still has a blue squiggly!

Be my own merciless editor

The last one was the hardest for me to adopt but was also the most helpful. Drawing inspiration from Stephen King, I put myself in the position of being the harshest, most relentless editor I can imagine. No paragraph is sacrosanct; no sentence untouchable; no phrase beyond reproach. Sometimes I hit the delete key. Sometimes I hit Cmd+A, then delete. Sometimes I keep what I wrote as a reference, but usually I start over.

The idea is to avoid getting so attached to a pithy insight that you cannot make it better. I also find that being stubborn about keeping a paragraph or sentence negatively covaries with keeping the reader in mind—the more I want to keep something I wrote, the less useful the words are to the reader. This takes a lot of humility in your writing, but humility is a trait we can all use more of.

By no stretch am I a good writer. I do think I am a better writer today than I was 2-3 years ago, and want to be a better writer 2-3 years from now than I am today. One of the best parts about being a professor is thinking and writing for a living—and we can improve both skills with commitment and practice!

Originally published on August 9. 2018 on Dr. Anderson’s blog

The Grand Theory of Entrepreneurship Fallacy

Dr. Brian Anderson

Periodically, I have a conversation where the topic turns to entrepreneurship researcher’s inability to answer—with precision—why some ventures succeed, some fail, some become zombies, and some become unicorns. Similar conversations surround the topic of startup communities and clusters, and the role of research universities in supporting entrepreneurial ecosystems. Often someone bemoans that we have study after study that addresses only one small piece of the puzzle, or that one study may be contradictory to another study, or that a study is simply too esoteric to be useful.

My response is, well, that’s social science.

I am a social scientist, and proud to be one. I think across the social science domain, including management and entrepreneurship research, we have much to offer the students, businesses, governments, and other stakeholders we serve. But the one thing we aren’t particularly good at is humility. Humility in the sense that when we talk about our research and what we can offer, we’re aren’t always very good at acknowledging the limitations of our work.

Think about predicting the weather. The cool thing about the weather is that it’s governed by the laws of physics, and we know a lot about physics. But even with our knowledge, computational power, and millions of data points, there remains considerable uncertainty about predicting the weather over the next 24, 48, and 72 hours. Part of the reason is that interactions between variables in the environment are difficult to account for, difficult to model, and especially difficult to predict. Meteorologists are exceptionally good forecasters, but are far from perfect. This is in a field where the fundamental relationships are governed by underlying law-like relationships.

The hard reality is that establishing unequivocal causal relationships in the social sciences is extremely hard, let alone forecasting specific cause and effect sizes. We don’t deal with law-like relationships, measuring latent phenomenon makes error always present, eliminating alternate explanations is maddeningly complex, and, well, we’re humans (that not-being-perfect-thing). Interactions among social forces and social phenomena are not only difficult to model, but in many ways are simply incomprehensible.

One technique we use as social scientists is to hold many factors that we cannot control and cannot observe as constant, and to build a much simpler model of a phenomenon than exists in reality. It helps us make sense of the world, but it comes at the cost of ignoring other factors that may be important, or even more important, than what we are trying to understand. It also means that our models are subjective—the answer provided by one model may not be the answer provided by another. In a sense, models are equally right and equally wrong.

Where stakeholders who are not social scientists get frustrated with us is the desire for simple, unequivocal answers. What is also troublesome is that some social scientists—despite knowing better—are more than happy to tell the stakeholder that “yes, I’ve got the answer, and this is it.” When that answer turns out not to work as advertised, the search begins again, although this time with the stakeholder even more frustrated then before.

Making the matter even more complicated are statistical tools and methodologies that seem to provide that unequivocal answer; the effect of x on y is z—when x changes by a given amount, expect y to change by z amount. It seems so simple, so believable, that it’s easy to be fooled into thinking that the numbers produced by a statistics package represent truth, when the reality of that number is, well, far from ‘truth’.

In conversations which turn to wanting simple, unequivocal answers about entrepreneurship—what I call the grand theory of entrepreneurship fallacy—telling the weather analogy helps. But it’s also easy to say that there simply aren’t simple answers. I can’t answer the question because there isn’t an answer; you are trying to solve an unsolvable problem. The best that I can provide, and the best that entrepreneurship data science can provide, is an educated guess. That guess will have a credibility interval around it, and will be narrowly applicable, and be subject to update as new data comes in and new relationships between variables emerge. That’s the best we can do, and be extremely wary of the researcher who says he or she can do better!

We characterize our human experience with uncertainty and with variance. Don’t expect anything better from data science on that human experience.

Originally published on August 9. 2018 on Dr. Anderson’s blog