At the Speed of Trade-offs
Amongst Asana's values, "Reject False Trade-offs" was the one I struggled with most when I first started in early 2022. A skeptical part of me worried it might excuse paralysis or bait perfectionists. Hearing it invoked in response to real problems sometimes felt dismissive.
But every now and then, faced with an apparent trade-off between opposing directions, someone would put their finger on their chin, look up, and start: "I wonder…"
These moments of playful curiosity were energizing. They revealed creative alternatives we hadn't considered at first. We sat with the tension a second or two longer. The discomfort seemed to evaporate, replaced by lightly buzzing interest.
Tension is the keyword. Just before any meaningful trade-off, there's a moment characterized by tension. This value is an invitation to notice the potential energy stored there.
When Fred Rogers created his show, children's television faced a clear trade-off: either be fast-paced and entertaining (keeping kids' attention through rapid cuts and noise) or be educational and risk losing your audience. Everyone knew kids had short attention spans. Rogers sat with that tension. He wondered if slowness itself might be valuable—if children needed permission to feel their feelings at their own pace. He created television that moved at the speed of childhood, with long silences and gentle transitions. It seemed doomed to fail commercially. Instead, Mister Rogers' Neighborhood ran for 31 seasons and became generationally beloved.
Our generation's modernity is characterized by speed. Tweets and reels being shared or bettered faster than neurons fire in a human brain. It's easy to miss things when we're narrowly focused on the next like, or retweet, or video of someone else watching a video.
Rejecting false trade-offs is a kind of trade-off in and of itself. It's choosing to hold discomfort long enough to see if it might contain delightful insights.
Like the Golden Gate Bridge, tension can create a suspended world of wonder between otherwise separate shores. Or like a Ferris wheel, opposite directions can be harnessed into momentum.
So I'm glad I've learned to sit with apparent trade-offs a little longer. And, of course, to check in with myself that this isn't about avoiding a clear but merely uncomfortable path.
This reflects my lived experience and personal opinions, and does not represent the views of my employer.
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