Last week, I wrote on counting wins - a strong practice for directional correctness. This week was an interesting one - I was advising someone with their startup software, and on one call, the topic and theme of simplicity repeatedly came up. It replayed in my head so much so that I decided to dedicate writing this week on the topic of simplicity.

In general, I like to think of everything in life as a structured series of layers built on top of each other. Every added layer creates a new amount of surface area and consideration on top of it. Some examples:

  • When new buildings are constructed, they inherit the utilities, piping, roads, etc. that they are built near/on.

  • In biology, multicellular organisms are composed of many cells, each with specialized functions and roles.

  • Software applications are usually built in layers. Internet infrastructure too - the screen you're reading this on, the Wi-Fi you're on, etc.

As you can see, if you spend too much time thinking about this (like I sometimes have), the layers stack up fast. The human brain has roughly 100 billion neurons and trillions of functional connections, but there is a hard limit to how many layers we can reasonably comprehend at once.

Thus, I consider it imperative to develop an instinct for drastic simplicity and accurate heuristics: approaches that accomplish a majority of the work, with a fraction of the effort. Cognition has limits.

In general, simplicity is contextual: what you are trying to simplify is dependent on the number of moving pieces the thing has. It can be a very literal physical thing, a piece of art, a business idea, and so on. When you create something new, each layer you add demands more from those 100 billion neurons of yours, and you eventually get stuck with analysis paralysis if you add too many layers. Changing one layer means all the rest are affected somehow.

This is important for habits, for products, for approaches, for test-pilots of new programs, for experiments, etc. Starting is important, starting simpler is even better. Whatever you have in mind, however you want to do it can probably be simpler. If you're starting a business or are creating products (like I do), both products and human culture are very malleable: it will not hurt you to master seeing how much you can accomplish with less input/effort/moving pieces.

Speaking of physics and simplification: one of my favorite images is the SpaceX Raptor engine. You'll notice iterations get drastically simpler in mechanism, but the end goal is the same: rocket go up.

It makes sense we'd bias towards complex things as humans; they're what society is made up of. However, some of the most "successful" things on the planet are also the simplest and tiniest: microorganisms are a favorite example.

Another very practical example - before I started writing this newsletter, I did all sorts of complex planning: "what do I want the brand, the content, etc." to be? I had a brand guide and content pillars all set up - but it was a big break from the way I've written before, and certainly not how I stylistically channeled my own thinking. I'm a bit more flexible than that, I like to think. So I scrapped 90% of it all, chose a few initial topics to anchor around based off my existing baseline habits, and went from there. Radical simplicity, and I'm giving myself permission to evolve however is most organic. Perfect? No. Me? Yes.

A quote I'll leave you with (that I also left that startup call with), and this is from John Gall's Systemantics (an inspiration of mine for many years):

"A complex system that works is invariably found to have evolved from a simple system that worked. A complex system designed from scratch never works and cannot be patched up to make it work. You have to start over with a working simple system.”

John Gall

I appreciate you, my dear reader, for your time and attention. If you know somebody that could benefit from a little simplicity thinking in their lives, I'd also appreciate you sharing this article with them!

Feel free to reply and let me know what you liked - and what you're going to cut.

Be well,

Michael Kirsanov

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