That Horrible Question
One question bugs me more than any other:
“So, how long does it take you to do one of these things?”
And I get that question a lot. Usually the questioner is referring to one of my data stories, and is being very generous by showing interest not only in what I do, but also in how I do it. They are innocently trying to strike up a conversation using the most common value-currency we have: time.
I usually respond by muttering something about how each piece is different, how work is done in uneven spurts of energy, or how I prefer to not think about how long it takes. And all of these are true. But what I’m really thinking about are all the Demons this question invokes:
You are so painfully slow — and that is because of your terrible limitations — you may never get to where you are going, let alone get it right.…
This flavor of creative anxiety isn’t anything special, and I don’t let it slow me down. But when someone asks this horrible ‘How Long?’ question they reveal themselves as having no idea about the irrational commitment it takes to do one.
And that is actually wonderful.
History is littered with crazy commitments from creatives. Dr. Seuss was rejected 27 times. Brahms tinkered with Symphony No. 1 for over twenty years. And so on. People pursuing a big vision, with no positive feedback in sight. Some are lucky and recognized in their time, some geniuses are unknown until after death, many never accomplish anything worthwhile.
But creatives aren’t the only who ones whose passion is critical. Most scientific contributions are products of lifetimes’ worth of pursuit. Darwin embarked on the HMS Beagle in 1831 and published On the Origin of Species in 1859. Scientific discovery is an endeavor likely as risky and possibly unproductive as any artist’s.
Hey Scientist, how long did it take you to discover….
Unusual commitments are not always centered around chasing a big idea. One of my friends, Liz, is a fantastic networker. Sure she knows how to schmooze at a party (charismatic and everything). But she can also hustle her way into any company you could name. Liz spends what seems like an inordinate amount of time chatting with people over meals, probing with curious questions, and navigating strange campuses and office corridors. Most of her curiosity yields no immediate return. There really isn’t even any foreseeable long term benefit of any one encounter — what are the odds you will cross paths with this person again in a way that helps you? But Liz plays the long game.
Liz knows that a single lunch will likely not result in anything meaningful for her. But she also believes that if she attacks each opportunity for connection with the same enthusiasm, that eventually something magical will happen: she becomes a super node with more knowledge about who knows who and who is doing what — outstripping any of her peers in social intelligence.
Hey Liz, how much time do you spend networking?
In a funny way I see Liz’s enthusiasm for networking and my own passion for data stories as the same. We both have a shared belief that where we devote our energy is special, yes because it may yield a return some day, but even more so because by plowing our energy into this activity we differentiate ourselves from everyone else. No one else is doing this precisely because there is no fast reward. Building an identity means doing something unique, and doing something unique means doing something a little crazy.
I still grimace a little when I get asked the How Long? question. On the surface it may always be a little awkward explaining that idea-to-execution sometimes takes a year, and then after that maybe no reward. But deep down I smile and know that their befuddlement means that I might very well be on the right path.
☞ RJ Andrews is the creator of Info We Trust and an acclaimed data storyteller who has the pleasure of working across the world humanizing information. He is very professional and punctual when it comes to working with others.
