I Am Not a Perfectionist

A nice compliment I’ve occasionally been paid is “you’re a perfectionist”. I’m calling it a nice compliment because it’s been delivered by kind people who have intended it as a compliment, and it’s gracious to accept it as it was intended rather than throw it back in their faces.

I used to think of perfectionism as a virtue, but I no longer do.

Why My View Has Evolved

I used to obsess over tiny details. I mean I still do, but I’m more aware that I do it now, and experience has taught me about some of the problems doing so can cause.

Now, I try harder to keep a birds-eye view of what I’m doing, assess where my actions can make the most difference, and balance where I spend my time.

Attention/Time are Finite

There are always things that can be done to improve any project. I mean project very broadly: an app, a website, an email, a painting, a loaf of bread. Is it better to spend 10 hours polishing some tiny detail, or to implement another couple of entire features?

The answer is not always obvious, but for me the important thing is to ask the question and assess. Awareness.

What are the Goals?

Are you trying to prove a concept and get it in front of people ASAP? Or to demonstrate your craftsmanship and attention to detail? Different goals requiring different approaches.

My Perfection May Not Be Your Perfection

It’s (almost) hilarious when I work on some small detail for hours, getting it just right. I then show my work to somebody else who immediately spots some glaring error in a completely different part of the work, and doesn’t seem even mildly impressed by my perfect detail.

More than once I’ve experienced the following:

When working on a painting, a friend has visited and seen it mid-way through the process. They love it, they say so and I can feel it. “Just wait until it’s finished then!” I think to myself, certain that they’ll love it twice as much. Then when it’s finished they see it and they don’t love it any more. In their eyes I’ve spoiled it. Only the rare few are secure enough in themselves and myself to be honest with me about that, but others give it away in their polite but unconvincing praise.

Sometime they’re just wrong (JK, you can’t be wrong about art)! But sometimes they might be onto something…

Diminishing Returns

The law of diminishing returns is an economic principle but it can be applied more broadly to lots of things in life.

The closer you get to ‘perfection’ (or at least your idea of it), the more the tiny imperfections stand out. They seem to multiply as they get smaller. Things that were not noticeable before, now stand out obnoxiously against their increasingly-perfect background. But your work isn’t really getting worse, you’re just looking more closely at it. You’ve zoomed in too far. You may be looking at a cathedral through a microscope. You can’t see it.

Paid Work

If somebody is paying me to make something for them, I have to respect their preferences and give them what they want.

In a good working relationship there should be honest debate and both sides should change their minds sometimes. I have experience in what I do and may have valid reasons for a disagreement. On the other hand, the client knows their business much better than I do and has reasons for their goals. Ultimately I have to remember that they are paying me for something and I want them to be happy with our transaction.

If we really, consistently, don’t see eye-to-eye, then we probably aren’t a good match and should not collaborate on future projects. Even then though, I still want them to be as happy as possible so do my best to finish the project and give them what they want.

Fear

I mentioned to a fried that I had several articles for this site that are 90% finished. I have been procrastinating.

“Why not just publish them, what’s the big deal?”, she asked.

Well…

I May Be Misunderstood

• What if I haven’t articulated clearly enough and somebody misunderstands my point?
• What if there are typos or mistakes in spelling and grammar? People might think I have bad language or communication skills.

We all make mistakes. We are all misunderstood, all the time (more often than some of us realise). The message we send is not the message that is received, interpreted and understood by the recipient, because our inner worlds are complex.

We should try our best. Then we should let go.

If something I said is misunderstood and important enough to somebody, they can ask me to clarify and give me the chance to put it right. Or maybe we just disagree — that’s ok. Or maybe they read some small thing and want to extrapolate it into some caricature of who I am and think badly of me, with no chance of recompense. Buh-bye! Life is too short to deal with these kinds of people. Thanks, imperfections, for filtering those people out.

I May Not Show My Skills in the Best Light

Some of my unfinished draft articles had (have!) placeholder pictures. Bad photos that I took so that I could get something on the page and get the layout right. Fuzzy, badly-lit, inconsistently white-balanced. Embarrassing.

But it’s still an image, which can help explain something or give context, or just keep some people interested. It’s not set in stone, I can replace it with a better photo later on.

I have published those unfinished articles. With the bad photos. Enjoy the spelling mistakes, ill-hewn thoughts, and crappy pics.

So Just Stop Caring?

No. None of this is an argument for not caring or being lazy. Details do matter, as do presentation and consistency. They add up to the perception of quality. I also want to feel good about things I make and put out into the world, and part of that is needing to know that I did my best.

But, aesthetically, overwrought objects are less pleasing. Sometimes, the last 10 hours you spent on fiddling with tiny details aren’t going to be appreciated by most people, and that time could have been spent fixing more important problems, or starting the next project.

Zoom out. Knowing when to let go is also a virtue.