Finding filters
If you need an umbrella repaired, simply go back in time 90 years to Australia to visit this cheerful and capable tradesman. (Powerhouse Museum)
It used to be that whatever you needed, you could find it on amazon.com.
But have you noticed that is no longer the case?
I went looking a couple of weeks ago for a simple mechanical kitchen timer. And I couldn’t find a single one that was made by a reputable company and had consistently good reviews.
I ended up taking a chance on a stainless steel timer of unknown provenance, in the shape of an apple. (“That’s not a pomodoro — that’s just a pomme,” said my husband.) It looked cute in the picture, but when I received it, I saw right away that it was a little off. The top and bottom pieces were out of alignment with each other, making the whole thing wonky and questionable. $10 wasted, like so many amazon.com purchases of recent years.
There’s so much crap out there — deliberate crap that people are making on purpose. And then there is well-meaning stuff that misses the mark. And possibilities that are close, but not quite right. It’s hard to find what you are looking for, and it’s easy to give up believing that you can even find it: A straightforward biographical article on President-elect Biden that’s appropriate for sixth graders. Locally-made granola without raisins. A reliable graphic designer available to take on small projects. Alas, the existing filters don’t always prevent hours of wading through endless options in search of something that fits your criteria.
The hardest part, for me, is the sense that maybe I’m too picky or even a little crazy to want what I want. And sometimes, that’s surely true. But on the important things, I have seen the value in holding out for the ideal. We can find a teacher who doesn’t make us feel awful about ourselves, an employee who will love the job we’re offering, a client who is fun to work with, or a friend who is up for joining us for a masked walk around the neighborhood. It’s not too much to ask.
As I’ve become more clear about just what I’m seeking, I have grown more frustrated with the trash purveyed by marketplaces like Amazon and Wayfair, where people have learned to be satisfied if something wasn’t too broken. “It was missing a leg and the fabric ripped on the second day, but we shoved it against the wall and you can barely tell! Four stars.” I’ve given up — these aggregators don’t have the filters that matter most.
On the other hand, I’ve become more confident in my ability to find the right people. The clarity that I have about exactly the characteristics I’m looking for makes it easier to spot those characteristics when I come across them in others — and to send out the signals that allow them to find me. A key filter selects for a certain quality of openness, interest, and compatibility with who I am and what I offer, which means that the person I’m looking for might actually be looking for someone like me. This greatly increases the likelihood of finding a good match.
Theoretically, the Internet makes it easier to locate things. But it’s crowded. There are so many people and products out there, competing and colliding and fighting for prominence. Some may be rewarded by the algorithm: “Here are some more options we think you’ll love!” Those algorithms can help, but ultimately it’s up to human beings to spot each other despite the noise and discover ways to connect and collaborate for mutual benefit. That’s the real joy of work and life. It takes some effort and some searching to make it happen, but it is well worth it.
