[stirred]

[where the treacherous paddocks disappeared into the dark. It was just you and me and the dash lights, the headlights, the silent lightning blanketing the sky.

We didn't speak. 

We drove the winding road, slick still with a memory of recent rain. Sometimes the white line disappeared beneath the bullbar, and sometimes it was to our right. It didn't matter. We were all alone out there in the dark: not a sheep or steer broke the empty fields, not a hare stirred. Not even a kangaroo. 

Nothing.

It was as if that lonely country was ours, each skeleton tree, every bald slab of granite. Just us, side-by-side-silent, your eyes luminous beneath the lit clouds, lost beneath the]

Three thoughts I never thought I'd think

Today's produced a few wildly uncharacteristic thoughts, viz.

1. Heavens but Bring Up the Bodies is a dreamboat compared with Something Wicked This Way Comes.*
2. I think I'll listen to Eels in an attempt to cheer up after that Elliot Smith song.
3. Maybe I'll just reject all these articles and get it out of the way. Easy!

It's only Monday. The odds of my winding up in a straightjacket by Friday are looking pretty good right now. Place your bets, people.

*Yeah, that book actually killed me. I'm scarred for life. The thought of reading gives me chills now. Mantel is a fucking cakewalk by comparison.

A message on gender for startups

Tech companies love data. People in this industry thrive on it. So why are tech startups still overlooking the data that ties workforce diversity to bigger bottom lines?

This week, strangely inured as I am to the world of corporate finance, I covered for a client a seminar on workplace gender diversity.

A few facts (note, these are not new facts; they are old research that's been around for years):

• Companies that are gender-diverse outperform (i.e. are more profitable than) those that are not by 18-69%.*
• Australian companies with women directors outperform those that don't by 8%.*
• Companies that are gender-diverse tend to exhibit a broader culture of inclusivity, reflecting forward thinking, a lack of conservatism, and openness to new ideas. That, apparently, tends not to hurt profitability either.
• Many worthwhile and valuable equality-promoting measures don't cost the business anything. For example, mentioning "men and women" in a job ad has been shown to increase the diversity of applicants.

Diversity can mean competitive advantage. So why aren't startups, which have a massive opportunity to basically redefine what "business culture" is, what "work" is, and what "competitive advantage" is, doing more, er, work in this area?

Examples? With pleasure. I know startups that don't really like you working from home. Why not? Because they don't really believe that you'll do work there. I also know startups that assess performance, at least in part, on the basis of hours worked, not the quality of work outputs. 

These kinds of approaches and cultures actively work against inclusivity, productivity, and profitability. As proven by research.

I also know of startups that do have an inclusive approach. But it seems incredible to me that for tech businesses gender equality is as much of an issue as it is for traditional businesses. If you're reading this and saying, "but we just don't get women candidates," I say:

• recast your job ads
• make your recruiters work for their money and provide at least x (3?) worthy applicants from both genders for any role; if they can't, interview the top two from the underrepresented gender so you can get an idea of the skills and people your talent-search process is passing by
• ensure employees of both genders are on every candidate selection panel (Yes! Panel! If you're still hiring via single-person interview, it would seem you're running your business like it's 1999.)
• ensure pay equity

...as a baseline.

Come on, tech companies and startups. The data shows you're leaving money on the table** by not championing gender diversity, and building inclusivity into your culture. And for an industry that prides itself on intellect and logic and a love of smart, data-backed business decisions, that's nothing short of embarrassing.

*If you want research citations, let me know.
**To use the popular get-rich-quick-online terminology.

Freudian slips

"I'm reading Purgatory at the moment ... from the Divine Comedy."

"I was wondering if that was what you meant."

"Have you read it?"

She shook her head.

"I've been through Hell," I said, "and now I want to get all the way to Heaven."

Over the weekend

Over the weekend, I reread The Weekend. Among other things, it made me realise how pointless book clubs are.

I love this book, but as I thought about writing this, I realised that no matter what I tell you about The Weekend, or how accurate it is, you may still hate the book. You might think it naff or dumb or light or whatever.

Book clubs must be hell for this reason: each of us has our own personal experience, and writing reflects different aspects of this, in different ways. Even two people who love the same book usually take different things from it. I tend to find this whenever I meet someone who loves a book I do: it's like we're talking energetically in different languages, although in agreement on a common topic. Strange.

In any case, there's something about Peter Cameron's writing that, until now, I haven't been able to put my finger on. I was surprised—and ecstatic—to find that on this particular rereading, I found all manner of new things in what is now a very familiar story, one that appears to be simple and short, with straightforwardly complex characters.

But what I like most about this book—about all of Cameron's writing—is the tenderness with which the author treats his characters. He forgives them over and over for their limitations, their selfishness, their brutal and touching humanity.

And in so doing, he shows us how to forgive them—and forgive ourselves—too.