Jason FriedModify

From time to time we get criticized for making "yet another to-do list" product. Or a chat product. Or a messaging product. Or something we've kinda sorta already made before, just in a different form, combination, or approach. "How about something else? How about something bigger? How about something completely different?"

David even reflected on it personally in his recent Lex Fridman interview.

So it's not just other people levying the charge — it's us too! I've given it similar time and similar thought.

But then I step outside tech for a moment, ground myself in other professions, and realize how odd it would be to ask the same kind of question to a knife maker. "Hey master bladesmith, you’ve made a dozen knives this year. Same as last year. Same as the last 20. If you love metal so much, why not help build a battleship? Think of all that metal!"

Or a cabinet maker. "Hey, ok I get it — you take raw wood and you turn it into beautiful furniture. Again and again and again. Don't you think a wood addict like you should consider getting into forestry? Imagine!"

That would be a ridiculous line of questioning. So why is it persuasive in tech?

I think part of it is that we're talking about software. An endlessly malleable medium that can truly be anything. With no conceptual limits, it’s easy to think you should keep expanding. But why?

There's nothing at all wrong with honing in, developing your craft, making variations of things you're good at, and getting better each time. Nothing small about it. Nothing unfulfilling about it.

So instead of looking sideways at what others are building — or upward toward the mythical “next level” — we focus ahead on what we're good at. We like to make useful, straightforward things we need. Specific tools and familiar ingredients combined in different ratios, different molds, for different purposes. Like a baker working from the same tight set of pantry ingredients to make a hundred distinct recipes. You wouldn't turn to them and say "enough with the butter, flour, sugar, baking powder, and eggs already!"

Getting the same few things right in different ways is a career's worth of work.

-Jason

There was a tiny fly right by the drain, and I was about to wash my hands.

Turning on the water would have sent it right down the hole. A quick end, or an eventual struggled drowning, hard to know. But that would be that, there was no getting out.

Somehow, for a moment, I slipped into contemplation. I could just turn on the water, I could rescue it, I could use a different sink. Had I not even seen the fly, the water would already been on, its invisible fate secured.

But in that moment of maybe, the fly launched and flew away.

Since it didn't know what I was about to do, and what that would do to it, it had absolutely no idea how lucky it was.

And then I wondered. How often am I in that same position? No idea how lucky I am.

Often, probably always.

-Jason

"Years of experience" has been a gold standard hiring requirement since forever.

It's a terrible one.

Someone can do something for years and have nothing to show for it.

Seek people with "Years of evidence" instead.

People with deep examples of work. Piles of stuff they've made. An overflowing collection of output they're proud to share.

If someone's brand new in their formal career, they might have little traditional experience, but if someone's been loving this kind of work for a long time, there's a good chance they already have a collection of hobby projects or other literal examples of their work they can't wait to show off.

Titles, tenure, and paths don’t matter. The work does. Always look at the work. It's the truth.

-Jason

When you encounter a simpler system, a simpler idea, or a simpler implementation, you have an opportunity.

You can say "it's not enough, it doesn't have, it wouldn't work". That’s the common reflexive response.

Or you can reflect. “What is it about how we work that prevents us from using such a simple, succinct system?” “How did we get so twisted, so tangled, so dependent on so much that we can’t seem to get anywhere otherwise?”

Depending on more can often mean being able to do less.

Turning back can be getting ahead.

Downshift.

-Jason

Whenever I write about our focus on cover letters during the hiring process, I'll inevitably receive the "cover letters are still a thing?" or "people still read cover letters?" response from a cadre of characters.

Here's one from yesterday:
https://x.com/amfonte/status/1924996546896036278

Yes, cover letters are a thing, and we absolutely still read them. And require them. We put significant weight on them.

Cover letters are the first signal of effort, of care, of clear thinking, of communication ability, and of diligence. The fundamentals.

They're the very first thing we read when people apply. And when they're bad, they're definitely the last thing we read from that applicant. We just stop there. They're green lights or red lights.

A great cover letter tells a story about someone in a way nothing else quite will. A cover video could be another flavor, and I'm happy to see those as well, but we still want to see how someone writes. Most communication at 37signals is written, so being great on camera but poor on paper doesn't cut it.

There's another tell in the cover letter: Are they applying for this job or just any job? It's pretty obvious if it's a general purpose mail merge, or a personal letter written to us about their passion for that position. The latter are the kinds of people we want to hire. The former can try somewhere else.

A great cover letter is not too long, not too short. But them, in words we want to read. The kind of words we want more of.

So that's where we start. From there we look at all sorts of other things, but you have to start somewhere. And for us, it's the sacred cover letter.

-Jason

I don’t think much about legacy. Yours, mine, anyone’s really.

Do the best you can right now. For now. Not for later. If it’s useful later, great. But that’s only because it starts out useful now.

Legacy isn’t an artist who was ignored all their life until they died. That’s just recognition and fame. Their work was already excellent then.

Legacy? Who’s going to remember anyway?

Do you remember the names of your great, great, great grandparents? What’s their legacy? You. You are the most important thing to you, and they’re essential to your existence. Yet you probably have no idea who they were. That’s just a few generations ago.

You can’t remember your ancestors a few clicks back, and you think anyone’s going to remember your work a few clicks forward?

Maybe, but only if it’s good today.

Later forgets most of it. Eventually, all of it.

What you do today, and how you do it, is what’s worth remembering.

Legacy isn’t a monument, it’s just that moment on repeat.

-Jason