Author’s Note: This is the third post in my 12 Great Commandments series, inspired by Gretchen Rubin of The Happiness Project. In the previous post, we talked about Being Obviously Passionate.
A master of martial arts trains for a lifetime, and becomes himself a deadly weapon. He may carry a sword, a knife, but he doesn’t need them. He understands that a knife is simply a sharpened piece of metal, a tool wholly dependent upon the tool-user.
What the master has is infinitely more valuable: a set of skills that protects him, and that, unlike a tool, cannot be taken away from him.
We’re surrounded today by more and better tools than ever before, but I wonder: do we really appreciate what that means?
I’m not suggesting that we take technology for granted. No, I think most of us are very aware of how lucky we are to be living in a time like this. We’re glad to have our iPhones, our netbooks, our hybrid cars. We’re very consciously grateful for all our sleek little tools. Which is fine.
But at the same time, what we take for granted … is ourselves. Our place – and our importance – in a world full of shiny new tools.
This is my third great commandment:
Collect skills, not tools.
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The word “hacker” originally had nothing to do with breaking into computer systems. A hacker was someone who valued skills more than tools, who lived by the questions “How?” and “What else?”- as in: “How does this work?” and “What else can this tool do?”
Hacking was the creative process of taking your skills and applying them in different contexts, using whatever tools happened to be available. Skills were primary, tools secondary.
It’s like learning math. You don’t give a kid a calculator and say, “Congratulations – you’re now a mathematician.” We recognize that a calculator – a tool – doesn’t give you the ability to do math; it only enhances the math skills and understanding you already possess.
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Thomas Edison famously remarked that, “Genius is 1% inspiration and 99% perspiration.” Of that 99% perspiration, a large part consists of answering the questions, “How?” and “What else?”
To put it bluntly, collecting skills over tools makes you look like a genius.
At work, for example, most people are content to learn the motions of tool use (whatever those tools may be) and turn into little more than mindless, tool-wielding zombies. If, in the middle of a zombie workforce, you’re able to see past the limitations of tools, understand what you’re doing, and figure out solutions independently, I daresay you’d be downright brilliant.
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I’m very fortunate to have a natural sense of curiosity that’s always led me to pursue skills over tools. What I’ve learned from it is this:
We must understand that progress begins with people. In an incredibly technological age, we can’t get comfortable and complacent with our armory of tools. If we do, all the technology in the world won’t save us from ourselves.
We’re the batteries of progress and invention. How we learn, how we think, how we compete and cooperate – how we answer the questions “How?” and “What else?” – that’s what starts it all.
All the knobs and twiddly bits come later.