Peo­ple have asked me many times to say what, exact­ly, is the point of this project. I’ve always had a fas­ci­na­tion with the ways that cre­ative peo­ple bal­ance inspi­ra­tion and dis­ci­pline in their work­ing lives. It’s easy to be ener­gized when you’re in the grip of a big idea. But what do you do when you don’t have any­thing to work with? Just stay in bed? Writ­ers have this fig­ured out: it’s amaz­ing how many of them have a rigid rou­tine. John Cheev­er, for instance, used to wake up every morn­ing in his New York City apart­ment, put on a jack­et and tie, kiss his wife good­bye, and take the ele­va­tor down to his apart­ment building’s base­ment, when he would sit at a small desk and write until quit­ting time, at which point he’d go back up. (When it was hot in the base­ment, he’d strip down to his under­wear to work.) The only way to expe­ri­ence this kind of dis­ci­pline is to sub­ject your­self to it. Every stu­dent who has tak­en this project had a moment where the work turned into a mind-numb­ing grind. And trust me: it won’t be the first time this hap­pens. The trick is to press on. For each new day (whether it’s Day 28, Day 61, even Day 100) brings with it the hope of inspiration.

Five Years of 100 Days: Obser­va­to­ry: Design Observer

Sore­ly tempt­ed to take this project on myself. Tick­les my masochism pickle.

The future of Bit­coin min­ing appears to be in the hands of a small minor­i­ty of users who can afford ASIC equip­ment, mak­ing the “dis­trib­uted” nature of Bit­coin some­thing of a joke. In addi­tion, the Bit­coin net­work now must use vast amounts of pow­er just to main­tain itself, pow­er typ­i­cal­ly gen­er­at­ed by fos­sil fuel plants and in amounts far out of pro­por­tion to its actu­al use­ful­ness. It is a tremen­dous waste of actu­al real-world resources that could be bet­ter used on some­thing impor­tant (like, for exam­ple, watch­ing cat videos).
If your work­space is as leg­i­ble as, and aes­thet­i­cal­ly con­sis­tent with, your busi­ness card, you should sus­pect your­self of liv­ing a frilly life. If it is sig­nif­i­cant­ly more illeg­i­ble and aes­thet­i­cal­ly inco­her­ent, there’s a good chance your work­space is a space of real work.
A frill is nei­ther an obvi­ous­ly non-func­tion­al aes­thet­ic touch (that would be a flour­ish) nor a clear­ly unnec­es­sary func­tion­al capa­bil­i­ty (that would be wast­ed func­tion­al­i­ty). Rather, it is a func­tion­al capa­bil­i­ty you want to sig­nal as being a part of your life, but not actu­al­ly use.
Gov­ern­ment researchers have tagged 338 sharks with acoustic trans­mit­ters that mon­i­tor where the ani­mals are. When a tagged shark is about half a mile away from a beach, it trig­gers a com­put­er alert, which tweets out a mes­sage on the Surf Life Sav­ing West­ern Aus­tralia Twit­ter feed. The tweet notes the shark’s size, breed and approx­i­mate location.
Mis­tak­ing cap­i­tal­ism for a blue­print as to how to build a soci­ety strikes me as a real­ly dan­ger­ous idea in a bad way. Cap­i­tal­ism is a remark­able engine again for pro­duc­ing wealth. It’s a great tool to have in your tool­box if you’re try­ing to build a soci­ety and have that soci­ety advance. You wouldn’t want to go for­ward at this point with­out it. But it’s not a blue­print for how to build the just soci­ety. There are oth­er met­rics besides that quar­ter­ly prof­it report.
I’m utter­ly com­mit­ted to the idea that cap­i­tal­ism has to be the way we gen­er­ate mass wealth in the com­ing cen­tu­ry. That argument’s over. But the idea that it’s not going to be mar­ried to a social com­pact, that how you dis­trib­ute the ben­e­fits of cap­i­tal­ism isn’t going to include every­one in the soci­ety to a rea­son­able extent, that’s aston­ish­ing to me.