Tag: workaholics

Careless people

Photo of the cover of Sarah Wynn-Williams' book, Careless people - A story of where I used to work

In 2021, when Sophie Zhang, a data scientist, blew the whistle on her former employer, Facebook, the world was shocked at just how much power Facebook had had over global political and social issues.

But no one was surprised that the company wasn’t the saintly, do-gooder it had claimed to be in the early 2000s, when most of us embraced Facebook for connecting us with old school mates.

Since then, the façade gradually fell and many of us grew skeptical of Facebook as the platform designed for community building and social connection. After the 2016 presidential election, however, whatever appreciation we had for Facebook plummeted down to the ditches and remained there.

There are so many things that Facebook did well in its early years. But as any registered company, Facebook also has the legal obligation to further its own commercial interests. Consequently, the platform that claimed to want to democratise the internet ended up causing extreme psychosocial harm across the world. The road to hell is paved with good intensions, as they say.

Over the weekend, I finished reading a book titled Careless people – A story of where I used to work. A book I devoured during my runs, gasping mildly, smirking, and shaking my head in disbelief at what I was hearing. It’s dark and funny and deeply disturbing.

It’s a memoir of a Kiwi-American, former-diplomat who created the international policy team at Facebook—just before it started engaging with governments. She remained in a leadership position throughout some of the biggest political and social events that Facebook was involved in, including (but not limited to) the internet[.]org project’s entry into Asia, the hate crimes in Myanmar, the “Facebook elections” in the Philippines and the US, the company’s stealth launch in China, and the preparations for the senate hearing.

In her book, Sarah Wynn-Williams talks about how careless the company’s leadership was in their handling of the power that comes with owning and managing tools that can manipulate the truth at scale.

There are plenty of themes in this book that’re great for staying up at night.

Things like workplace culture, how the corporate world sees motherhood and maternity leave, how sometimes girl bosses can be bad bosses, how the idea of heroes is deeply flawed, how whistleblowers spend years silent and complicit, how even big companies with thousands of employees can be dangerously  understaffed, and so much more.

I’ll be thinking and writing about these in the coming weeks, and if you also read the book, I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Remote

Photo of a laptop on a residential garden waste bin, in the backdrop of a flowering garden.

Makeshift standing desk,
fresh air, and warmth on my back;
working from my home.

Have a break

Take time out. It’s not a real vacation if you’re reading email or calling in for messages.

Randy Pausch, The Last Lecture

My thoughts Pausch’s book

I’m away on holiday for a couple of weeks, and until I get back with more haiku and photographs, I’m sharing some of my favourite quotes. Hope you enjoy!

If you want more, check these out:
Travel haiku | Musings about life | Copywriting adventures

Of working from home

I’m a remote worker. And for the first time in a long time, I spent an entire day at home. Working.

Writing for work, without a break, hoping to get the damn thing finished so I could spend more time writing more stuff—poetry, opinions, random strings of sentences I wish would make a reasonable story.

Then, I’d edit my works in progress, expecting to get a lot done, as much as I could, within my limited daytime.

As I wrote on, my heart longed for the great outdoors. Through my window, soft breeze and cloudy sky called for me. After three months of bushfire smoke haze, the rains of last week had cleared the air and people’s lungs of deadly particles. It was, at last, beautiful outside.

Over the last week, it seemed like summer had decided to call it a day. The temperatures had cooled down, delaying sunrises and expediting sunsets. Though I still saw the light at quarter to eight, the sun had already retired, taking much of the heat with it.

And all the while, I sat on my desk, typing away, taking a minute or two to distract myself on Facebook or to tune into the radio to hear the last of the daily quiz show.

Just as I finished my work stuff, I realised I hadn’t showered in two days. Though my pedestal fan prevented any perspiration, I was still uncomfortable in my own skin. A bath later, I remembered I still had to meal prep for the next couple of days. As the light waned in the garden, I let my imagination and hopes melt in the heat of the stove. All the stirring, sautéing, and the dishwashing that followed left me drained.

Nothing worse than when the body is able, but the mind has already shut down for the day.

I felt claustrophobic, even with so much light and ventilation. It was like being in a cubicle, shut off from the rest of the world. I love my home, but it drove me crazy. It felt wrong not to go out, to interact with people, walk, or rush for the bus. As if everything normal in my life had taken a sudden break, crippling me.

That’s when I realised: working from home is great, as long as you’re not in your home.