Just off the phone with my best friend, who will be awake even later than this, because she has a software patch rollout to test in the wee hours. It almost makes me feel spoiled, though I clocked several hours in the office today to tie up the workweek's proverbial loose ends, knowing that one or two of may unravel behind my back tomorrow. But so far as tonight's concerned, I'm off the hook for them until Monday.
It's sad that weekends make us more productive than the traditional work-week. Sad because people have to make trade-offs between what fulfills them professionally and what fulfills them in private life. And all because of the false economies of packing so-called professionals into close proximity, as if expertise and (business) intelligence will magically transfer as immediately and virulently as cooties at recess. And, in my best friend's case, the false economies of expecting the most capable to only not only do their share of work, but to be responsible for the process and/or product besides. My best friend noted that her father--an old school I/T professional--is baffled at the hours she puts in. In the heyday of The Corporate Man, he was rarely away for supper.
So I can't help but wonder whether there's such a thing as "peak productivity," intended in the same sense as the concept of "peak oil." Until we step into a cybernetic-enhanced William Gibson-esque (think Neuromancer and Johnny Mnemonic) world, people can only scale so much, even with the best tools.
