So, out of the melange of facts and factoids formed by my formal education, casual conversations, and various apocryphal forms of entertainment, I have come to understand that Eskimo language and cultures puts an emphasis on *now* -- not to say they don't plan for the future or remember the past, but they are more hard-wired to "live in the moment." I can't confirm that this is an accurate portrayal of their culture, but it is intuitively appealing to me.

I've realized that there is a class of executive who follows this philosophy. Sadly, not in the "let's stay in the moment and squeeze the juice out it" way...but more in that they have the ability to present an opinion with absolute conviction, then change their minds up to 180 degrees -- and they never acknowledge the change. The case for the new opinion is made without a twinge or backward glance. And woe to anyone who states or intimates that there was every a different point of view.

It's difficult to appreciate the Eskimo Executive when you are directly involved in the about-face (you're too busy controlling your large muscle groups from the fight-or-flight response). But if you can watch from the sidelines, it's fascinating. For a long time, I assumed these people knew they were making massive changes in their opinions/directions. I thought it was just ego or a sense of "let's not upset the little people" or "must not show weakness; pretend nothing has changed."

But I've come to realize: they do not know they've done it. The shift is instantaneous. They truly believe they always held the same (read: correct) opinion. And if tomorrow new information necessitates a change in the correct opinion, hey, they will havealways held that one, of course.

I know you've seen it. There's even a country song about it: "He was frequently wrong, but never in doubt." Now, here's a question to ponder: How do you know if you are an Eskimo Executive? I mean, wouldn't the very definition of the problem mean you could never perceive it?

So I wonder if the fact that I notice this in others means I share the trait. (This is, of course, the psychological corollary to my brother's axiom: "He who smelt it, dealt it.") Or does the simply act of wondering about it mean I am not afflicted? Hmm... 

OK, how many of you remember diskettes? Cute, little, portable, magnetic miracles that let you store - gasp - 1.44Mb of data. Yes, that's right...1,440,000K (and change). Now I know you young folk with your rock-and-roll music may not appreciate this, but at the time, it was a break-through. [Quit smirking, or I'll make you sit still while I ramble on about that heady day when Lotus 1-2-3 finally enabled us to make text BOLD and COLORFUL (albeit on a separate file) with Allways.]

Today we have so much space on our computer drives that it boggles the mind....so much space that I rationalize keeping things that I should delete. The funny thing is, within my circle of friends, I'm actually one of the more ruthless deleters (is that a word?)...deletitions? Deletionists? Hell, I have fewer than 100 emails in my inbox --- as opposed to several collegues who have (I am not kidding) +13,000 sitting in their inbox...with as many as 3000 unread. And the only reason they stop at 13,000 is that IT forces them to archive occassionally.

Here's my question....why do I save all this crap? I mean, I know what I think I save it. I think I may need it one day. But I alsoknow that when I do need something, 4 times out of 10, I can't find the right email. I could go off on a rant about people who send me emails with subject lines of "question" and "tomorrow's meeting" so that there's no chance of identifying the true topic, but that's not really my point.

Why do we do this? Why do we save 14 versions of a project that's long since been delivered? Why do we save ever iteration of an email string? Why do we faithfully store every crappy presentation that our collegues thrust upon us? It's part lazyness, part covetousness, and part paranoia. Covynoia....that's that's the technical term.

I've yet to meet an ascetic business person....though it would be interesting. "Hello, my name is Pat, and I keep everything I need on this single 1.44MB diskette. When I receive new information, I simply delete the old. So for the near term, I look forward to interacting with you. At some point, though, your contact information will be over-written by a new bit of data, and we will lose contact. Until then, as long as you don't send me any graphic or sound files, I will enjoy our interaction. Hey, don't be sad; it's a FIFO world."