My Competitive Environment

I compete with some pretty big studios for business.

These studios have a lot of advantages over lil’ ol’ me. They have heaps of tech to make use of when they’re completing a project. They have a million people to handle the work. They have bushels of money to take clients out to lunch and they have the prestige of a beautiful office to have meetings in.

I have a pretty sizable advantage over them as well, though. And my advantage is that I DON’T have all those things I just listed.

I’m running an overhead-free business, and in doing so I’m able to compete with and beat the top dogs at their own game, and I’m loving it.

My Method

When I tell most people that I operate with no overhead, they assume I mean low-overhead, or I just don’t hire people, so I don’t pay salaries.

That second part is certainly true – I don’t hire people so I’m not burdened with having to sign other peoples’ paychecks – but my overhead is literally zero. Zilch. Nada. Beyond my own cost of living, which is minimal (and something that everyone has outside of and separate from business), my expenses for running my business are non-existent, and I work hard to keep them that way.

What’s the trick?

It has a lot to do with minimalism.

Take a second to think about your office or place of employment. How much of what’s there is necessary? What do you NEED to operate. Rephrased: if you had to run your business without anything in there, could you?

For most businesses, you couldn’t You’d need SOMETHING to operate, even buskers need their instruments, even if everything else is optional. And truthfully I need a few things, too. Without my computer, I wouldn’t be able to connect with my clients or do a good deal of the work I do.

Fortunately, I would own a computer even if I wasn’t running a business. Personal expense, buddy. Just like food and shelter. Still zero investment, business-wise.

This is how I approach every new business opportunity that comes my way. I ask myself a series of quick questions, and if the answer to any of them is ‘No,’ then I move on.

Do I already have the materials I need to operate this business? Would any kind of up-front investment be necessary? Do I possess the skills necessary to start a business like this? Will I be able to make this business profitable within a year?

These are important questions, and ones that you need to answer if you’re planning on starting an overhead-free business.

Other Things to Keep in Mind

Don’t hire people to do things you can do yourself. The ideal overhead-free business involves only skills that you already possess.

Don’t pay for things that you can get for free (or if there is a free, passable alternative available). This means making use of Open Source alternatives to popular software, using freemium versions of services instead of a paying model, and opting for extras when the basic model will do.

Make use of what you already own when you can. I already own a computer, so the one piece of expensive equipment that I use to run all my businesses is already bought and paid for.

Keep out of the physical world as much as possible. This means if you make a product, make it an electronic product (or a physical product that is completely handled by a third-party). Use emails and note-taking software instead of letters, fliers and scribbled notes.

Pass the benefits on to your clients. One of the largest advantages you’ll have by running this kind of business is that you don’t have to pay for salaries, paper and ink for the printer, or a brick-and-mortar location. Undercut your competition and provide comparable or superior work, and you’ll be golden.

If the costs start to increase, take a good, hard look at what you’re doing and figure out if it’s a business you want to stay in. There’s nothing wrong with having expenses, but there are so many opportunities out there that don’t require any kind of investment at all that you may want to jump ship and start fresh if the overhead becomes a burden.

I just got off a 16 hour flight, hopped a bus to a bus station, and then barely managed to snag another bus before it left.

It’s about 6:30am one day in the future…not quite sure how that happened, but I’m pretty sure the transition took place while I was sleeping. And here I thought the International Dateline was a phone-based service for lonely xenophiles.

Now I’m at a hostel. Goodie.

Standing in line, I glance around, though it’s just out of boredom…I already know what I’m going to see. At this point I can pretty much just close my eyes and list off what will be in the room.

Behind me there will be a whiteboard or chalkboard with the days events. There will be an emphasis on local deals and a happy hour at the hostel (or unattached but affiliated) bar. There is a tour today or tomorrow to some local tourist attraction. Another is for the non-tourist; some kind of picnic, wine tasting, rock-climbing shindig, ostensibly in the company of locals.

I’m not sure who the locals are, but I imagine they’re probably the people who work here. Does that even count?

Another wall will have a massive map along with historical information about the area, fun facts and/or book-report-style posterboard displays sounding out important colloquialisms along with an explanation of what the hostel’s name means.

There will be photos of people who have lived there before and the people who work there. They’ll be doing fun things – rock climbing, canoeing, traveling with great big bags on their backs – “they’re just like you!” these photos say. Trust us! Come to this wine tasting we’re holding at the famous cliffside picnic area that other visitors don’t know about! Only US$99!”

A booth or table will be conspicuously set up, nearly collapsing under the weight of fliers and informational brochures about local things to do, modes of transportation and concerts/parties that will be going on in the near-future (and very likely ones that already occurred up to several months ago).

Signs about how to access the WiFi are posted. There’s a kitchen (sign: “we’re not your mother, please wash your own dishes!”) and a shelf of books you can take, so long as you leave one that you’ve got with you. There are chairs in little groups for impromptu meetings with other travelers.

And you know what? Even though hostels are predictable, they’re great. Really fantastic, actually. The people are generally very friendly and helpful, the lodging is almost always very habitable and relatively clean (better than my dormitory in college, anyway), and the price is definitely right.

My issue with hostels is that they purport to provide a genuine experience, and the (generally) younger generation of travelers that stay there perpetuate this myth that hostels are somehow more legit than hotels or other housing opportunities.

This is simply not true.

Hostels are just as whitewashed and enclosed as any hotel. The only real difference is that you meet people from all over the world while there…the trouble is that they are all other travelers.

What do I have against meeting other travelers? Absolutely nothing! In fact, I almost always meet at least a handful of really great people when I stay at a hostel.

This is an issue all unto itself, however, because I find that when I meet these other travelers, I seldom feel the need to really dig deep into the local culture as much as I would going solo.

Sure, we may go on a day trip, walk around the city and eat the local food. But I’m certainly not forced to make friends with the locals, to work my way out of difficult situations or just sit an observe the local customs and mannerisms. I’m too busy exchanging travel stories with this chick from London and this guy from Germany. There’s a guy here who’s been traveling for years, and now I know all about where to go when I make it over to the Netherlands. Sweet, except that I came to South America to learn about South America. And all he can tell me about are the tours the hostel he stayed at took him to.

Boo. Hiss.

So stay at hostels – I know I intend to continue doing so – but be real about what you’re getting for the money. Don’t assume that because you’re staying in the cheaper option that you’re seeing the REAL (insert name of country you’re visiting here), because honestly you’re not. The bars they’re taking you out to or recommending are the ones that expect tourists from the hostels to show up. The landmarks they’re showing you and the excursions they’re taking you on are customized for foreigners. You’re not going to meet up with any locals who will work to integrate you into the local system, because there is a lot more money in keeping you separate. It’s just good business.

Try to live with a local or get a place of your own outside of the hostel/hotel system if you really want to get some dirt under your nails and live like the locals do.

Otherwise, just enjoy your situation for what it is. There’s a bar, library, theater, kitchen and clean bathrooms all throughout this hostel I’m in at the moment.

I’m going to take what luxury I can before heading back out into the real world.

One of the most popular posts ever here on Exile Lifestyle was All 72 Things I Own, wherein I took a photo of each and every object I owned in the world and was shocked to find that I had only 72 items.

Well that was back in November when I was living in Buenos Aires – a lifetime ago! – and seeing as how this is the 100th post here on Exile Lifestyle, I thought it would be a good time to revisit this concept and see how much I own now.

I had a vague notion that I wanted to be down to 50 items by the time I moved to New Zealand, and it looks like I met that goal. In fact, until today I was at 47 things…not too shabby!

But this morning a magical thing happened: 4 t-shirts arrived in the mail. T-shirts that I designed for Exile Lifestyle, my audience and myself. Yay! Oh wait. Guess I should have only ordered 3 shirts. Drat.

It’s okay, though. Because you know what? Rules were meant to be broken (especially rules created by you for a competition against yourself as part of a project also created by you).

I’ll continue to reduce as I stop using things (I imagine some of the other shirts I own will be on the cutting block soon), but at this moment I’ve got 51 and that’s just fine with me.

Below is a list of what you’re looking at in the photos above (in the same order). Click on any of the photos to be taken to it’s Flickr page where there is a more detailed description (including brands where applicable) and larger photo.

*It should be noted that I count some things together (the glasses and their case, for example) and I haven’t photographed the small tangle of cables I have to power the objects on the list. I also don’t include anything that is consumable (food, toilet paper, etc) or anything that I’m currently renting (my apartment in Christchurch, the furniture in it).

My 51 Things

1. Button-down shirt
2. Polo
3. Long-sleeved shirt
4. V-neck t-shirt
5. V-neck t-shirt
6. Graphic t-shirt
7. Graphic t-shirt
8. Graphic t-shirt
9. Graphic t-shirt
10. T-shirt
11. T-shirt
12. Jeans
13. Jeans
14. Pants
15. Jacket
16. Jacket
17. Hoodie
18. 3 pairs of boxers/boxer briefs
19. 4 pairs of socks
20. Shoes
21. Flip flops (jandals!)
22. Belt
23. Workout shoes
24. 2 workout shirts
25. Workout shorts/ swim trunks
26. Messenger bag
27. Carry-on bag
28. Sunglasses
29. Wallet/contents/passport
30. Notebook and sketchbook
31. Pens and pencils
32. Digital camera and case
33. Tripod
34. Phone and SIM cads
35. Universal Adapter
36. Laptop
37. Laptop case
38. 2 external hard drives
39. iPod/armband/headphones
40. Trimmer and shaver
41. Glasses and case
42. Toothbrush/toothpaste/floss

People used to tell me that I was crazy.

Now, for doing the same things I did before, they tell me I’m innovative.

What’s changed?

I became successful. I worked incredibly hard, made some money, achieved my goals and got my life where I wanted it.

THAT is something that’s very difficult to argue with.

Until you prove yourself, and if you are doing something beyond the status quo, it’s natural for others to feel that you’re just an oddball.

All successful people are just weirdos until they change the definition to include themselves.

There’s no reason you can’t do the same.

It would be crazy not to.

Before you buy something, think ‘what value will this provide?’

Also think ‘will this be an asset? Will this make me money?’

Most purchases are actually liabilities, not assets. They steal your time and energy, rather than adding to it.

Consider with each purchase, ‘will this help me become a better person?’ That TV may be big and sexy, but will it push you toward that trip you’ve been wanting to take?

Nope. In fact, it pushes you in the opposite direction. That money could have gone toward the trip, and then bam, double-whammy, you also spend time in front of that TV, vegetating. Time that you could have spent building a second income or learning a new skill or reading a book. Not to say there’s anything innately wrong with TV, but it is a very one-way media…you’re much better off investing in forms of entertainment that are interactive and not as numbing.

Think, with each dollar that you spend, whether or not that dollar could go toward something you want more.

Sure, you want a candy bar right at this moment, and you’d probably enjoy it. But wouldn’t you rather have a new computer or camera? I know I would.

I would never tell you that you can’t do something.

Anything.

Because you know what? We live in the future. Absolutely anything is possible.

It’s not a matter of if, it’s how.

That’s how awesome we are as a species. Go team!

That being said, there are things that CAN’T be. Not in an absolute sense. These things COULD be, but they shouldn’t to a level that if they were to be, the consequences would be so astronomically bad that no sane person could ever make themselves move forward with the steps that would lead to it.

Nuclear war is a good example of this. What kind of crazy person could possibly think that nuclear war would be a good idea? At what point should we just laugh at our country’s posturing when it comes to nuke-related threats?

“You didn’t do what I wanted, so I’m going to end that world. That’ll show you.”

Give me a break.

This kind of situation isn’t always on such a large scale.

The decision to aim for mediocrity, for example, is a death-sentence for any person with ambitions. It doesn’t matter how you arrive at this decision or what kind of justifications you’re throwing around as to why you stopped trying; the moment you stop striving is the moment you nuke your life.

Sure, there’s a chance you can come back from something like that, but think of the fallout. It takes generations for things like that to wear off.

So that’s it. You’re human so you CAN do anything. You could detonate the planet or napalm your dreams, but you can’t. You won’t. Because you have immense power at your fingertips and all you have to do is use it for something positive.

Just be careful where you point it when you pull the trigger.

I think this is probably the millionth time someone has commended me on my work ethic only to glance at my screen and see that I’m playing Tetris.

Or Dawn of War.

Or Civilization 4.

Dear Uncool Self: you should really have a hot-key set up to cover whatever game you happen to be playing so that when people walk by this doesn’t happen; like hit Command + 4 and a spreadsheet pops up or something. What looks productive? Maybe an email window?

But what if I’m not connected to the Internet? Shit, Uncool Self, get on this.

The thing is, I actually don’t fall prey to this beast of non-productivity very frequently. It’s just that when I do there always seem to be people around to judge me.

It’s not just the games, either.

They usually find me sipping a Sugar-Free Red Bull, huge bag of Doritos open at my side, telltale orange powder covering my fingertips. If there’s not a game on my screen, it’s some TV show that I’ve been watching episodes of for the last 2 hours.

I probably got them from some illegal streaming site, too. It’s seriously ALL bad news.

Don’t look at me.

It’s just that people don’t usually see all the productive moments. I can whip out an entire eBook in an alarmingly short amount of time, and a blog post – from conception to presentation – usually doesn’t take more than a half-hour, tops. Client projects generally go at a fast clip, as well.

And these days I’ve made a very conscious effort to relax and to do things non-work-related more frequently. I walk around whatever city I’m in, learning streets and trying to get lost. I slow myself down so that my usually quick walk is instead a rolling saunter.

How can I expect people to walk in on me at the right time when so much of my day is, at least visually, unproductive?

Maybe I’ll keep a bottle of Adderall next to my computer while I’m goofing off? No, then they’ll probably think I’m just trying to get high in addition to trying to beat my high score and increase my cholesterol. Shit.

The thing is, I probably shouldn’t even CARE whether or not people think I’m a busy person, but it’s been so ingrained in me it’s hard not to.

I come from a culture that values working late into the night, not having any time to bathe, much less eat, and that assumes anyone who isn’t working equally stringent hours must not be worth a damn.

This culture is, of course, the Entrepreneurs; a noble people who unfortunately have learned more lessons than we’d like to think from our Corporate ancestors.

The irony is that we have escaped from the corporate culture only to (in most cases) create mini corporations with the same strengths and weaknesses as the ones we left (except that we’re in charge now, so we get to be the ones to frustrate those lower down the ladder…that is until they follow our lead and take off, continuing the cycle).

Among the inherited values we’ve brought with us from the cubicles and board rooms is the ridiculous prioritization of time-spent over value-achieved.

So here I sit, one hand digging around a Doritos bag for a choicey morsel, the other hand click-clacking away at keyboard, looking for another episode of Project Runway, reminding myself that this state of being is a benefit that I’ve earned, not something to be ashamed of.

Okay, well, maybe I should get a smaller bag next time. This is kind of ridiculous.

I’m sitting here in Melbourne – on the floor – in the corner of my hostel room.

My roommates seem to think I’m missing a few screws, and I’m not sure they’re wrong.

I just went through a bag of Doritos and I’m on my second Sugar Free Red Bull.

I’ve been on this computer all day, changing locations so as not to seem like ‘that guy who’s on his computer all day.’ I figure each room is a different group, and each group is a completely separate ecosystem. If I can change location every few hours, each group will think they saw the isolated few hours I spend on the computer each day, and it’s unlikely that they’ll all get together and compare notes.

This establishes plausible deniability. Niiiiice.

Despite the friendly Aussie and Irish dudes bunked up near the door and the sassy Venezuelan model camped out above me, I’m feeling incredibly antisocial, putting in enough work not to be unfriendly – even going so far as sharing some wine and conversation with the model last night – but honestly all I want to do is go back downstairs to the far, dark side of the hostel’s bar where a wayward WiFi signal can usually be picked up or across the street to McDonald’s (the source of that signal).

I’ve been buying a lot of McDonald’s bottled water. God, I can’t stand their food.

This isn’t me and I know it, but I know the why I feel this way.

I’m homesick.

It’s not a traditional kind of homesick, however. My family is great, but I’m not homesick for their house in Missouri. Nor am I missing the townhouse I shared with my ex in Los Angeles before scrapping my lifestyle and starting over.

No, honestly I just miss the idea of home. A place I where I can unpack my clothing and store them in a closet. A place where I can leave my computer out all day. Where my devices are always charged. A place with a fridge I can put food in without having to write my name on it.

A place with an iron.

I want to be able to get up whenever and go to sleep whenever, without worrying about accidentally waking someone else in the room. I want to workout any time I please without feeling like I owe someone else an explanation. I want a place where I can walk around naked all day long without being arrested.

I’m talking naked yoga, people. Home is naked yoga.

This is what I miss. The last time I had it was in Buenos Aires, early in January. At that point I was living in a nice studio apartment in Recoleta, having fun and fancy-free. I’ve had a lot of adventures in the meantime, and I wouldn’t take them back for the world, but I need to recharge.

And it’s not enough to just stay with someone in a nice place. I’ve stayed at a lot of nice places since then, but it’s not the same. When it’s someone else’s home you’re always worried about moving anything or making a mess or getting too comfortable. You don’t usually unpack your stuff. Your stuff is still packed and you think you’re at home? Don’t kid yourself, buckaroo.

So that’s where I’m at in my head, leaning against the wall, listening to music on my headphones while my roommate chats away with his girlfriend and wonders what I’m doing on my computer. Porn, probably. He thinks I’m looking at porn.

Not here, roomie. This isn’t home. Just one more thing to miss about having a place to settle, even if briefly.

Home is where the porn is.

I’ve always enjoyed taking off in airplanes.

There’s something about the rattling of the compartment, being pushed back in your seat and breaking loose from gravity – against all odds – in order to reach your destination faster.

Mankind broke away from the earth for convenience.

We then took it a step further, escaping the atmosphere and casting chunks of metal, dogs, monkeys, and finally human beings into space. Why? Because we could. Because we felt we needed to and we don’t easily suffer barriers.

Think of the last time you gazed out to sea or over a wide, open expanse of land. Your sight seemed almost limitless; you could see for miles and miles.

That distance is increased a hundred-fold while you’re in an airplane. The higher you go, the further away the horizon stretches until you can see further than any bird, any cloud, or any god on Mount Olympus.

Now imagine how that horizon disappears completely as you pull away into space. There’s no longer anything between you and seeing forever out into the vastness of eternity.

On Earth, the most powerful telescope will eventually come up short because of the curve of the planet. From the air, the distance to that horizon is increased, but it’s still there. From space, you could gaze outward forever, limited only by your ingenuity and technology. You can see into the past or travel far enough, fast enough, to launch yourself into the future.

Any barrier can be broken with the right application of mental force and calculated risk.

And what is a horizon but a barrier to be broken through?

I’m writing this post because I’m pissed off.

The circumstances don’t matter. The people involved don’t matter. Really, none of the specifics matter because this is something that I’ve seen happen over and over again since I entered the creative world, and it’s something that is actively harming every industry I’ve ever worked in.

But let’s start with some background information, because unless you work as a creative this may not make a lot of sense.

The way a corporate structure works is that there is a solidly established hierarchy, one in which each person has someone else above them to report to who then has someone else to report to who also has someone else to report to, allllll the way up to the tippy-top of the corporate mountain. At the top is the head-honcho, the person who makes all the big-picture decisions and manages the underlings, the hope being that the people below the top-person will manage most of the day-to-day decisions so that he/she can focus on the management of the company as a whole.

This is what we call bureaucracy, and though certain aspects of this system work well, it also creates a situation where professional middlemen, good at leading (though not always even that) and managing but without any other firm skill sets are in charge. This isn’t such a terrible thing by itself because they are there to make the sprockets turn smoothly so that the people who are creating something can do so without having to worry about all the moving parts, right?

That’s how it SHOULD work, but unfortunately over time this system has evolved (or devolved) into the following: a creative (using this term to mean anyone who creates something) does their best to devise and develop a product (using this term to mean anything a creative creates) using their education, knowledge and experience, just as they were hired to do. A middleman of some sort then tells them to change it because they think it should be more X, Y or Z. A back-and-forth ensues wherein the middleman tells the creative how to do their job, and because they have the whammy on the creative (read: can fire them if they don’t obey), the creative must make the changes the middleman asks for.

It usually sounds something like this:

Designer: “Here’s the design for the newsletter.”
Manager: “I don’t like the color. And I think you should use a different font here. And this photo should be bigger. And I think it needs to feel younger.”
Designer (wants to say): “Why should I care whether or not you like the color? I took 3 years of color theory when I went to design school..you wear power ties in primary colors. It’s not a font, it’s a typeface, and that’s the perfect one to use for this look. If that photo is bigger the visual hierarchy will be thrown off and the viewer won’t know where to look first. And saying something should feel younger is just a way for you to assert that not only do you have the power to make me change things arbitrarily, but you also want to feel like you have some idea about what makes something look younger. I’ll bet if I asked you for specifics right now you’d act as if it’s obvious and I should know what you mean – being a designer – when in reality you’re just spouting nothingness to sound important.”
Design (actually says): “I’ll take another stab at it.”

Let’s take a deep breath and look at what just happened here.

The creative was hired because they know their business and are good at what they do. The middleman was hired to deal with the bureaucratic process. What ends up happening instead is that middleman tells the creative how to do their job, so no longer is there any expertise going into the creative process…the good work is being destroyed by the opinion of an untrained eye.

No one is getting what they want.

Middlemen who are good at processes but not creating are doing all the creating and making up for their lack of software knowledge by doing it through the person who was hired to create.

It’s all I can do not to jump up and down, shouting at the top of my lungs over the insanity of this situation. Here we have work, good work, being done for the company and it’s being torn apart because the middleman thinks they know more about the creative’s job than the creative. Sure, they didn’t go to school for it, work for years at it or show any talent for it, but they are in charge, and therefore their opinion matters more than those of the people they oversee.

It’s madness, but it’s so ingrained that you have to travel far and look hard to find companies that don’t adhere to this pattern.

This, my friends, is a big part of why I run my own company and will never again work for someone else. I got tired of my work being watered down to feed the ego of someone who thinks they have good taste (and who’s going to tell them they don’t? You don’t want to offend your boss).

I am paid to be a problem-solver and creator, not a Photoshop-technician.

At this point in my career I’m fortunate to be in a position to take on the clients that I enjoy working with and avoid or fire the ones that I don’t. I will always do my utmost to explain the why’s of my decisions, take into consideration any good, rational arguments the client might have (or opinions that won’t harm the design to implement), but I’m done with having my work bastardized because of petty hierarchy.

I’m done with having someone who doesn’t know what an x-height or serif is tell me that my ‘fonts looks wrong.’

I’m done with adhering to the status quo because that’s the only way most people know how to operate.

I want to make it clear that I’m not saying these are BAD people. In fact, they’re just playing the game the way they were taught, just like everyone else.

I myself am frequently in leadership positions where I’m forced to make the same executive decisions that result in inferior products. I constantly manage people who I’m hoping will put their own spin on things and add to the overall vision of a product, but unfortunately most have been trained well to follow directions and keep their heads down. The really revolutionary stuff does not come from ‘design by committee,’ it comes from really talented people with free reign and a manager who knows how to clear road blocks so that the creators can really shine.

Instead, most creatives are trained to wait for approval before trying anything new, willingly make any change that is suggested without bringing up something that would work better, and never telling the higher-ups that they are dead wrong, have no taste and should learn something about aesthetics before giving their opinion.

So what’s the solution?

I seriously doubt most creatives will be moved by this rant to stand up to the higher-ups at work and tell them where they can stick their ‘notes’ on the most recent project, but at least it make clear that you WANT to be a part of what you were hired to do.

Let’s try this: send a link to this post to anyone you know in a management or creative position and we’ll see what happens.

I’m sure some people will be upset, most will be in denial, and several will likely write strongly-worded messages to me.

Hopefully, though, making sure everyone is on the same page will start a dialogue that will begin to bring some small changes to the dynamic of the workplace which will lead to better products, better work relationships and a more beautiful, well-designed world.