Re-read: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Mainteneance

 I last read Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Mainteneance in 2013, and this might turn out to be a book I should re-read every 10 years or so, as the meaning of the book keeps changing for me over the decades. On this re-read, I found myself rediscovering how much the book influenced me. For instance, on this time around, I highlighted the argument about a degreeless, gradeless college:

he would come back to our degreeless and gradeless school, but with a difference. He’d no longer be a grade-motivated person. He’d be a knowledge-motivated person. He would need no external pushing to learn. His push would come from inside. He’d be a free man. He wouldn’t need a lot of discipline to shape him up. In fact, if the instructors assigned him were slacking on the job he would be likely to shape them up by asking rude questions. He’d be there to learn something, would be paying to learn something and they’d better come up with it. Motivation of this sort, once it catches hold, is a ferocious force, and in the gradeless, degreeless institution where our student would find himself, he wouldn’t stop with rote engineering information. Physics and mathematics were going to come within his sphere of interest because he’d see he needed them. Metallurgy and electrical engineering would come up for attention. And, in the process of intellectual maturing that these abstract studies gave him, he would be likely to branch out into other theoretical areas that weren’t directly related to machines but had become a part of a newer larger goal. This larger goal wouldn’t be the imitation of education in Universities today, glossed over and concealed by grades and degrees that give the appearance of something happening when, in fact, almost nothing is going on. It would be the real thing. (pg 189)

I realized now that I was that student in college. I was the guy working two jobs while going to school full time, and I was intentional about learning, as opposed to being there for the degree. I had another student once asking me why I was working so hard on a class I was taking Pass/Fail (where grades didn't count). My reply at the time is that I'm taking the class because I was actually interested in the topic, and taking it pass fail so that I really could concentrated on learning instead of grades. That answer completely mystified the other student. I did get pissed when classes were moving slower and covering less material than I'd hoped. It also led to a total lack of empathy with other students --- when your parents are paying for college you might have a different attitude from the guy living on ramen and trying to scrape by. And by the way, this is why I got so pissed at Republicans claiming that those of us on Pell grants and financial aid were there looking for a handout and less deserving than those who were living on what us poverty-line types called "F&M scholarships" --- father and mother scholarships.

Recently, Vermont was telling me about asking one of the other engineers to slow down, and pay more attention to detail and care rather than rushing through trying to close jira tickets as quickly as possible. This book has such a strong echo with Vermont's exhortations:

Impatience is best handled by allowing an indefinite time for the job, particularly new jobs that require unfamiliar techniques; by doubling the allotted time when circumstances force time planning; and by scaling down the scope of what you want to do. Overall goals must be scaled down in importance and immediate goals must be scaled up. This requires value flexibility, and the value shift is usually accompanied by some loss of gumption, but it’s a sacrifice that must be made. It’s nothing like the loss of gumption that will occur if a Big Mistake caused by impatience occurs.

It’s the way you live that predisposes you to avoid the traps and see the right facts. You want to know how to paint a perfect painting? It’s easy. Make yourself perfect and then just paint naturally. That’s the way all the experts do it. The making of a painting or the fixing of a motorcycle isn’t separate from the rest of your existence. If you’re a sloppy thinker the six days of the week you aren’t working on your machine, what trap avoidances, what gimmicks, can make you all of a sudden sharp on the seventh? It all goes together. (pg. 309, 316)

This is such a great book. All engineering managers should have to read this book, and probably should recommend it to their direct reports. And if you need motivation to become a better mechanic:

A person who knows how to fix motorcycles—with Quality—is less likely to run short of friends than one who doesn’t. And they aren’t going to see him as some kind of object either. (pg. 349)

I bought this book 11 years ago. It's still worth reading, and I get new stuff out of it every time I read it. You can't get more highly recommended than that.