Six months in, nothing to show, and the steering committee is asking uncomfortable questions. The Billing project is running out of time and the steering committee is running out of patience. Jordan's tightening grip only makes things worse while the ground shifts beneath Alex's career. Meanwhile, Terry quietly guides them to discover what they need to learn. In their work on The Billing Project Alex and Jordan re-discover the joy of being human, together.
The conference room felt smaller each month. The arms of Jordan's chair seemed somehow tighter as the steering committee circled back to the same concern. Billing project. Six months. Nothing to show. The executive sponsor's voice cut through stale air: “What's your plan to get this back on track?”
Terry listened as the monthly program review circled back to the same concern. Alex's project – six months in, nothing to show, timeline slipping. One executive wondered aloud whether they needed “different project leadership.” Terry had seen this pattern before: good people trapped in a broken approach, about to become casualties of their own system. “Give me two weeks to assess the situation,” Terry said. “Before we make personnel changes.”
Alex stared at the project status spreadsheet one more time, hoping the numbers might somehow rearrange themselves. Six months in, and still nothing users could actually touch. Just expanding work breakdown structures and revised estimates that kept pushing delivery further into next year. Another milestone had quietly slipped last week. Jordan had stepped in to exercise more “oversight.”
Technology's role is not to replace human creativity but to reveal new facets of it. This understanding offers a framework for evaluating new technologies like generative AI: Do they enhance our capabilities while respecting our agency? Do they serve our creative intent or demand we serve theirs? Do they allow our authentic voice to flow through them, or do they try to replace that voice with their own? How we answer these questions has everything to do with whether we encounter gen AI in a spirit of anxiety and skepticism or one of creativity and play.
TL;DR: Tools that “come easily to hand” disappear into their work while today's apps demand our constant attention. This piece explores how “customer delight” originated in Taiichi Ohno's worker empowerment vision but has often devolved into today's manipulative design patterns. Is it time to reclaim “delight”? What if software empowered us like a master craftsperson's tools? What if apps faded into transparency, letting us experience not the shallow ping of notifications, but the deep satisfaction of creation and genuine accomplishment?
As a neurodivergent professional, I've discovered that working with AI assistants offers unique advantages that complement and enhance our natural cognitive styles. While there are many benefits to this collaboration, one of the most powerful is how it supports self-awareness and metacognition – the ability to observe and understand our own thought patterns.
Working with AI can help support various cognitive styles that don't always align with traditional workplace expectations. This guide offers practical prompting strategies that can benefit anyone, followed by specific guidance for those who choose to explicitly incorporate their neurodivergent identity into their AI interactions.
User experience fails aren't just inconvenient. When it comes to accessibility they're life-altering. Molly Burke's revealing demonstration in this video of an audio description device control app exposes the frustrating reality visually impaired users might face.
The accessibility improvement story, however, lies deeper. Product development processes sometimes prevent skilled people from creating good (accessible) products. This article examines how systemic, organizational, and individual factors set the stage for the success or failure of accessibility efforts before they even begin.