The Devil is in the Details
Some years ago I rented office space in the Hong Kong Island neighborhood of Wong Chuk Hang (next to Aberdeen). I rented the entire top floor of a new commercial/industrial building, and through a friend, found a contractor who agreed to do the fit-out. All I wanted was a polished concrete floor and half a dozen air conditioners installed, and the contractor and I quickly agreed on a fee and construction schedule.
A couple of days before the office move, I went over to inspect his work, and I found that although the job had been done to a reasonable standard, one part of the concrete floor was significantly blemished. I called the contractor to explain/complain, and he commiserated. Yes, it was unfortunate, that part of the floor, he said. When can your guys get back here to fix it, I asked? Never, he replied. We’re too busy. Just take it off our fee. So I did. And bought a throw rug at IKEA to cover the spot.
When I told the story to my friend who had introduced the contractor, he laughed and said Hong Kong contractors were famous for their “90 percent” (or 80 percent, or ...) approach. They’re just too busy, he said, to care about quality. They’re on to the next job, and it doesn’t make economic sense for them to come back to fix their mistakes.
I was reminded of this story last week while speaking with a friend about someone I know – and frustratingly, work with – who is not detail-oriented. My friend said, “He should find a job that isn’t detail-oriented.”
I thought about this for a second, and said, “What job – done well – isn’t detail-oriented?”
I couldn’t think of one.
Here in Japan, monozukuri can be defined roughly as the art, science and craft of making things. But it is the art of making things that differentiates monozukuri from manufacturing. Monozukuri includes many of the qualities implied by the English word craftsmanship, as well as the Japanese dedication to continuous improvement (kaizen), waste reduction (mottainai) and caring for one’s workspace and tools.
There are undoubtedly millions of people in Japan who are unhappy in their jobs, but for the most part, they don’t let their dissatisfaction show. And for the most part, few of them appear to be half-assing it through the work day (white collar workers excepted … there’s plenty of half-assing there, in my experience).
The legendary (awful) humblebrag response to the (awful) job interview question “What’s your greatest weakness?” is "I can be too much of a perfectionist.”
Yes, an inability to prioritize tasks and delegate work is a weakness (if you’re not just humblebragging), but an inability to produce (or even identify the need for) quality work is an even greater one, in my view. Delivering less than 100 percent shows disrespect for customers, partners and colleagues, but most of all provides little motivation to turn up for work at all.
On several occasions during my career I have found myself in situations in which my work was profoundly unappreciated by those around me. All that was left for me was pride. Yes, I could have thought to myself, “If no one else cares, why should I?” But I wanted to be sure that when I finally found my way out from those unhappy circumstances, I would be able to leave with my head held high, knowing I had done my best.
"Every man's life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.”
– Ernest Hemingway
It comes down to who you really are when nobody is watching. Always do your best, that’s your essence, what you are made of. And if those around you fail to appreciate your efforts, there’s always someone who will. Not today, maybe in a year...like me, who is reading this two years after you posted it 😀
We are in an industrial building in Wong Chuk Hang. Your experience is all too familiar.
"I have found myself in situations in which my work was profoundly unappreciated by those around me. All that was left for me was pride (...) I wanted to be sure that when I finally found my way out from those unhappy circumstances, I would be able to leave with my head held high, knowing I had done my best" That's the only important point, Roberto, and the one which lets you sleep every night. Appreciation for your efforts is always good, but life is unfair sometimes. Unfortunately.