This week I want to talk about bubbles. The post-election narrative you might read is that the Republican party thought they were going to win, possibly in a big way, and were somewhat blindsided by not winning. They were looking at their polls, talking to their inside guys, listening to their people on TV, and hearing all the right signals. Republican candidates lost races because they felt comfortable saying stupid things about women’s reproductive systems and immigrants, despite that it’s absurd they would even think these things in contemporary times. They didn’t hear about these things because they were stuck in their own echo chamber, a bubble of their own invention.
Whether or not this is the major factor that led to the Republicans failing to win the elections they wanted to, bubbles and echo chambers are a crucial thing to make yourself aware of. Existing in a bubble can give you the confidence and connections you need to realize big ideas and execute them. At the same time, they can insulate you from challenges that, if you fail to rise to them, will eat your dinner.
I spend many of my hours in the bubble of professional software developers who mostly use Ruby to write web applications. We talk about acronyms like TDD, HATEOS, DDD, ACID, and SOLID. Many of us came from backgrounds such as PHP or Java and laugh or cringe at things like EJBs, MPMs, and SSIs. Many of us have a spouse, a house, some kids, take 1.5 vacations a year, etc. Our work is in strong demand, but there are things that could take that away from us: competing languages and frameworks, shifting economic conditions, or tension in our own community. Amongst other things, we have a shared language, experience, and enemies. We work in a bubble, together.
I spend a few hours a week amongst the Austin community of improvisers. We improvise stage shows, mostly comedic ones, using principles of long-form narrative improv (though there are other forms). We talk about supporting a scene, how and when to edit, how to create interesting characters, and what makes a scene intriguing. However, this is not a professional community; the vast majority are doing it because they want to, not because of the money. This leads to a much wider array of people involved in the community. Some people have what I would have previously considered a “normal” job where they go do something for eight hours a day they’ve trained and worked at for years; many don’t. Some have insurance, some don’t. We don’t work in a bubble together, but we play in something of a bubble together.
The contrast in these two communities is intriguing to me. In passion, these two communities are very similar. In background, they are very different. While I’ve learned a ton about improv, I’ve also learned a lot about life, and how various people lead it. Not everyone has the luck or fortune that many of us professionals do. Not everyone can do something they really enjoy and be in demand for doing that thing. Despite that, people chase their passion, with possibly even greater vigor because it’s all about the passion.
The reminder that there are people outside of my little world of nerds has been the most mind opening thing that has happened to me all year. It’s a little odd that I ended up stepping out of one bubble by stepping into another. But I’m pretty damn glad I did; I get to perform with wonderful people and have learned a ton from every one of them.
A bubble can blind you, enable you, or open your eyes. Existing in a bubble is fine, maybe even useful, but knowing you’re in a bubble and that there are other bubbles out there is pretty important too.
Your friend from many bubbles,
~akk