Recently, it seems not a day goes past without hearing the words
‘Daddy, play DUPLO®?’
It always makes me smile. After all, what could be better than hanging out and building stuff with a rambunctious two year old!
Now being the project manager, I’ll invariably ask,
‘So little guy, what do you want to build?’
After all, I need to establish the initial project business case. It could be a train station, a rocket or a ‘baiiig’ tower to name a few.
‘Rocket! Baiiig rocket!’
Great! We have a direction and the energy, so we go and can start building right? Well, yes and no, mostly no…
“What, type of rocket? Would you like it to be a Space Shuttle, a Saturn 5, or NASA’s new Space Launch System – Cargo 2 (SLS)?’
Introducing the project scoping workshop. Here, we need to make sure we are building what is really going to be valued and make sure that we have the resources to make it happen! – I can’t count the amount of times that we’ve run out of blocks and had to rebuild it smaller just to complete the project! In addition to resource planning, we also need to get an idea of how we are actually going to go about making it. Having considerable experience and skills in both DUPLO® and rocket construction, I know that each type of rocket needs to be fundamentally different if we are going to maximise the utility from the available resources. The problem is that the two year old really doesn’t really care about the details!
Let’s take a step back and think about what is happening in this situation. We know the following:
- Overall objective: The two year old wants a rocket
- Resource: We only have the blocks in the box to work with
- Culture: Dynamic and constantly changing environment
We need to know the technical specifications for the desired rocket. Let’s take a functional view of the project in terms that will translate to a two year old:
‘How tall would you like your rocket?’ – Restrictions in resources mean that Saturn 5 is always going to be tallest while the Space Shuttle is always going to be the shortest.
‘Who is going to fly in the rocket?’ – Does it need to accomodate a payload? If so, will it be a baby tiger, a hippopotamus or a cuddly toy?
Once again, this is determined by the available resources with the bulbous nose of the SLS able to accomodate the largest payload by volume and the space shuttle unable to accomodate an internal payload (though the hippopotamus could be accommodated externally if required).
This line of reasoning is based on a critical assumption. The definition of a rocket at the outset carries the assumption that the finished product will be identifiable by a general observer as a representation of a vehicle capable of extra-atmospheric transit. At this point you’re probably thinking that I’m thinking far too much about this… You’re probably correct, but I prefer to think of it as simply a professional hazard rather than mild insanity.
You also might be thinking, how dare I impose such a limitation on the imagination of a two year old! Surely this is not encouraging innovation and creative thinking? Based on the construction materials of choice (DUPLO®), wouldn’t a cube offer the maximum payload and size combination? Why does the rocket need to be identifiable as a pre-existing rocket?
The short answer, within this context, is that that this use of standardised imagery creates efficiencies through learning effects, encourages engagement & energy, and simplifies the task of ongoing evaluation due to a standardised reference point. These efficiencies are indeed at the expense of innovation and creating novel and creative solutions to our hippopotamus launching system. These ideas will be shown in more detail later as we look at the importance of artefacts in projects. The topics of encouraging innovation, engaging the unknown, and working with ambiguity are really interesting and valuable, but they really warrant their own dedicated article or three. In this instance, suffice it to say that we have made the decision to be pragmatic and innovate through evolution rather than seek a revolutionary solution to the problem.
Getting back to the scoping workshop, with the aid of the aforementioned assumptions and establishment of some key functional requirements, we now have a much better idea of what our rocket will look like, its required function, and through prior learning, how to start construction for our rocket. We have established that the hippopotamus will be the payload and that it needs to be about a meter (100cm) tall. At this moment the team is engaged and energy levels are high, but being about 90 seconds into our rocket project, if building doesn’t start imminently, the energy will be directed elsewhere and the rocket project will be delayed!
There is no time for detailed planning, just a general idea of the shape is all we have to go off. This is where the benefits of a standardised concept of what a rocket is start to come into play. By making the assumption about what a rocket is, we can use a standard template/design to start construction quicker, capturing the imagination, while retaining engagement and energy. The drawback to using this approach is that every rocket looks similar to the next. In this instance, we are trading-off ingenuity for pragmatism knowing that if engagement and energy are allowed to wane, the project will fail.
‘Top of rocket, orange one!’
Starting at the nose cone and working down to the base, then adding the side boosters is the default approach to the construction. Once again we don’t have time to reinvent the wheel at the moment. The two year wants a rocket and time is critical! The reason we start at the top is that within only a few lines of blocks, stakeholders can see what they can identify (based on a general assumption) immediately identify as a rocket: It has a pointy bit at the top and goes out and down straight-ish and has fins on the back … Like and rocket.
‘Knock it over?’
Just over 200 seconds in and those dreaded words are spoken! Oh, what a disaster! Are we destined to fail quite so soon? If I could just get it to where the hippopotamus could go inside (to demonstrate real value), we might be in with a chance to avert this impending doom! Is there the time before the inevitable earthquake? Is this the end of our rocket project?
I used to think to myself..
‘Just give me some time and we’ll make something awesome!’
With experience, I’ve learnt my unyielding focus on the end result was wrong. While, I would certainly advocate for keeping the end in mind, if you’re not getting value through the journey, you’ve missed the point! The two year old wants to enjoy the fruits of our labor and part of that in his mind is to test it out, deconstruct it and experiment with it. To maintain the progress of the project, I’ve learnt to firstly, not kill the benefits for the ideal of completion, and secondly, to think in blocks.
Thinking in blocks is a combination of modular construction and completing the work in small sections. A quick investigation of agile project management methodologies will introduce you to the concept of iteration or cycles. The central idea being that if you chop a large job into small pieces, there are more opportunities to make changes and react to evolving situations. Applying this to our rocket, the two year old wants to knock over the freshly built nose cone, which will inevitably result in disassembly, rework or abandonment.
The quickest way to ensure the abandonment of the project is to deny the two year old the benefit of playing with and invariably disassembling the part. The tactic I’ve found to be most successful in this situation is to record the pattern of the bricks in the part, relinquish the part to its inexorable fate and continue with construction on the next module. If possible, try to get the work to a robust state before the handover as a more structurally sound part/module will hold up to a greater level of punishment and hopefully reduce the associated rework.
‘Daddy, read story’
Construction of the various rocket modules is progressing well, with a few inevitable casualties, when without warning, the two year old gets up and demands to read a story. This causes an obvious stop to progress on the project as we are forced to focus on more ‘operational’ matters. The energy has been directed away from this project, do I fight it as say, ‘No story, I’m having too much fun on your project,’ or do I roll with the energy, read the story and hope to come back to our rocket project later? It is important to choose your engagements wisely. Or as Sun Tzu said, ‘There are roads not to take, there are armies not to attack’ in this case, we are on ‘dire terrain’ and must not linger (If you’re not following this part, there is a great Chinese text called the Art of War by Sun Tzu. If you’ve not read it, I would heartily encourage you to take the time, buy the book, and read it). In this situation, a tactical retreat is called for. Unbeknownst to the two year old however, this ‘retreat’ is actually a strategic feint. I know that the energy will swing back around in time as the desire for the benefit of the project will persist despite the distraction posed by the story, and I’m ready for it!
‘Daddy, rocket!’
After a story and other distractions, the two year old sees the incomplete rocket in pieces and various states of disassembly. He remembers the benefits he originally sought from the project and suddenly, the energy is back! Here is another point where having adhered to the assumed norms of rocket design and focusing on the key identifiable features first, helps to re-engage the two year old in the project. We’re back on! By using a modular approach it is easy to see where we left off and get straight back to constructing the hippopotamus carrying rocket!
After a few more destructions and distractions, we eventually have a rocket! Now it is time to get creative! With the rocket in a recognisable form we have achieved our minimum viable product, but it isn’t the end! Because we used a modular approach to the construction, we can make changes, embellishments and additional features by pulling apart a module modifying it and reattaching it. This means that even while incomplete, the rocket spends more time in its most beneficial state; poised to launch our daring ‘astro-potamus’ into the upper reaches of the play room!
‘1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, Blast off!’
The rocket is now ready for launching the ‘astro-potamus’ into the upper reaches of the house. Mission accomplished and fun has been had by all!
‘Knock it over? … CRASH!!! … Uh, ooohhh!’
Nothing will last forever. In the end the only thing that remains of our rocket are the original blocks, strewn end-to-end across the floor, ready to be stepped on by an unsuspecting foot in the dark. Never-the-less, we achieved our objective. Even though there is nothing left of the rocket, we still remember what we learnt through the process; to quickly gain momentum, think in blocks, follow the energy, and enjoy the moment!
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