Avoiding Yak Shaving

What is Yak Shaving?

One of my focus areas for the new year (though definitely not a “resolution” in the classic sense) was to develop a new website focused on Life/Work design. There are multiple challenges to focus including being distracted by shiny objects and a passion for yak shaving. What, you might ask, is YAK shaving?

I experienced a bit of both during the midst of the pandemic when Apple finally released a new iMac with faster processors and a much improved camera for the proliferation of Microsoft Teams meetings and Zoom calls. The computer arrived and even though I had some important work scheduled, I couldn’t keep myself from starting to set it up.

I’d set up enough new computers in my life to know better, but I thought to myself how much better it would be to type my daily on that beautiful new screen rather than on a ratty old laptop. After all, it’s a Mac–how hard can it be? All I really need was one little keyboard extension cable and all that upgraded goodness could be mine!

Hours later. Multiple trips to two Best Buy stores–curb side pickup; face mask, hand sanitizer. I’m typing this on the ratty old laptop–surrounded by Yak hair. Seth Godin explained Yak Shaving in his blog in 2005:.

Yak Shaving is the last step of a series of steps that occurs when you find something you need to do. “I want to wax the car today.”

“Oops, the hose is still broken from the winter. I’ll need to buy a new one at Home Depot.”

“But Home Depot is on the other side of the Tappan Zee bridge and getting there without my EZPass is miserable because of the tolls.”

“But, wait! I could borrow my neighbor’s EZPass…”

“Bob won’t lend me his EZPass until I return the mooshi pillow my son borrowed, though.

“And we haven’t returned it because some of the stuffing fell out and we need to get some yak hair to restuff it.”

And the next thing you know, you’re at the zoo, shaving a yak, all so you can wax your car.

So, what to do?

Don’t go to Home Depot for the hose.

The minute you start walking down a path toward a yak shaving party, it’s worth making a compromise. Doing it well now is much better than doing it perfectly later.


The only way to win the Yak shaving game is not to play.


Seth’s Blog https://seths.blog/2005/03/dont_shave_that

Merlin Mann on Yak Shaving http://www.43folders.com/2004/09/29/mental-dialogues-yak-shaving-the-triumph-of-the-mini-review

Wictionary on Yak Shaving https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/Talk:yak_shaving#Etymology

Joi Ito on Yak Shaving https://joi.ito.com/weblog/2005/03/05/yak-shaving.html#trackbacks

[Original Link](http://projects.csail.mit.edu/gsb/old-archive/gsb-archive/gsb2000-02-11)

Photo Credit: Alexandr frolov, CC BY-SA 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons

Not Nearly the Threat I Thought I’d Be

One of the last presentations that I did before I finished at William and Mary was to Mark Hofer’s doctoral class on student engagement. The topic was engaging adult learners, and it gave me the opportunity to look back over my time at William and Mary and to think about how it was shaped to a small set of core values about the way adults learn. These values are based on my belief that higher education would be more effective if we saw our core mission as helping our students become more effective and confident lifelong learners rather than as experts “delivering instruction.”

For me, the prime directive for understanding adult learning is:

Adult education is concerned not with preparing people for life, but rather with helping people to live more successfully [right now]. Thus if there is to be an overarching function of the adult education enterprise, it is to assist adults to increase competence, or negotiate transitions, in their social roles (worker, parent, retiree etc.), to help them gain greater fulfillment in their personal lives, and to assist them in solving personal, [professional] and community problems[1].

Within that prime directive, I’ve tried to stay true to several principles:

  1. Every learner is unique—as is every faculty member. Technology has given us extraordinary tools (bags of gold) to dig as deeply as we want to into areas of personal interest—and to help students learn to do the same. Our course designs should nurture that uniqueness.
  2. Learners are whole human beings. Thoughtful course design allows faculty members to be extremely creative in helping persons develop an integrated view of themselves as lifelong learners.
  3. The most effective classes are inquiry communities where participants work support each other in building new knowledge based on their individual backgrounds and experience. Engaging course designs allocate time to helping participants articulate and plan their own learning projects and to identifying ways they can help others accomplish their goals.
  4. Adults tend to organize their learning around solving problems rather than around “covering the material”. The simple shift to having students think about problems that they want to solve rather than assignments that they have to complete changes the dynamic of the class.

Through my discussion with the students in Mark’s class, it became clear that these core concepts are still seen as pretty radical, both by my colleagues and by many students. I feel a bit like folksinger Arlo Guthrie, who says that he still received a fair amount of attention from the TSA when traveling by plane. He acknowledges that most of the TSA officials have never heard of him, and he feels that he should let them know that “I’m nowhere near as big a threat as I had hoped to become”. When I finished my doctorate in Adult Education at Syracuse, I never thought these ideas would still be on the fringe of higher education practice 30 years later.

Requiem for a Dead Blog

When I met our new president for the first time. “Oh, you’re Gene Roche”, she said. “I looked at your web site.” That probably wasn’t a positive comment…

The site hadn’t been updated in a year. It was a WordPress blog with a theme that had been pretty outdated when I installed it in 2016 and certainly hadn’t got any fresher over time. The posts were generally long, images were few, the language was probably overly academic, and what structure was there didn’t really reflect my interests now. The site that had once been the center of my internet presence had become an embarrassment.

Long ago, I joined a small group of evangelists centered at the University of Mary Washington to promote the notion that everyone needed their little piece of the web that they controlled and that presented them to the world in the way they wanted to be seen. (The notion hasn’t gone away. Canadian Researcher Harold Jarche just posted an article

I challenged the students in my educational technology to Google themselves and to see if they liked what came up. I asked them to imagine that they were applying for a job and the chair of the search committee did a Google search–which, of course, every search committee chair did.

Quite a few of them started to do something about it. They registered a domain of their own, bought some space on a hosting service, studied search engine optimization, and started trying to manage their digital identity. I suspect that most of those sites are dead now, replaced by Facebook, Instagram, Youtube channels, and Tic Tock.

When I look back, building and maintaining that site was one of the more creative activities of my career even with all its warts. I enjoyed the technical challenges managing PHP and MYSQL and a host of other arcane sequences of all capital letters. In spite of some dry spells, I posted a couple of hundred mini-essays that gave me the opportunity to think a bit about some interesting things that I was encountering. I wonder if 100 days 1 of attention, of tweaking, of showing up could breathe some life into this and become an outlet for my creativity again.

  1. The 100 days comes from a workshop that I’m participating in. I’m sure I’ll provide more context and detail as we to down this path. ↩︎