(Just to be clear: this has nothing with outliners or the app I work on all day.)
I could have linked to all of these stories, but instead they're bundled into this handy thing below. We call it a stack. Enjoy.
It’s been said that there are several stages of grief, starting with disbelief, hitting depression somewhere in the middle, and ending with acceptance.
And many people have assumed that our reaction to the latest Presidential election would, or should, follow that model.
I don’t think that’s right. At least not for me. My stages-of-grief model looks like this:
That’s the complete list. I don’t claim that it’s productive or moral or that I’m a good person — just that it’s true.
Here’s the thing: this isn’t really grief. You probably know all too well what it’s like to lose a loved one. A very sad thing happens, and you recover slowly, and not in a straight line. That’s grief.
But the Presidential election isn’t one sad thing that we’ll recover from. It’s a promise that terrible things will happen later.
This is not grief.
To everyone who continues to call for unity, who says that we should get over it and come together as a country, I’d ask why should I.
This March will be my third trip in three years to Yosemite — I can’t miss it. I’m hopelessly addicted to one of the most beautiful places in the world.
You can go too! It’s 20% off if you register this week.
It’s not a code conference — it’s about people and art and love. Sessions are in the morning and evening, so you can go on hikes during the day.
It’s so much more beautiful and awe-inspiring in real life than on your desktop.
With Apple no longer making displays and wireless routers, we have to look elsewhere for these things. And when we start looking elsewhere, we customers who have been in the habit of just buying the Apple thing get in the habit of looking outside Apple for things.
I can’t help but think that it’s a kind of an anti-halo effect. I can’t help but think that once we start looking elsewhere, we’ll look elsewhere more and more. We’ll get used to it. We’ll find out that other companies make things that work and are, in some cases, delightful.
Here’s a case: my wife bought a Fitbit when I bought my Apple watch. I envy her iPhone app which is so much cooler than Apple’s fitness software; I envy her not having to charge her device every night; I envy her not having to wear a heavy thing on her wrist.
And her Fitbit does sleep tracking, which I’d like to do — but my Apple watch is charging while I sleep, and there’s no way I’d be comfortable sleeping with that bulky thing on my wrist anyway.
Another case: one of my side projects is a Mac app, and clearly that means I’m going to be running a Mac. But I have another project that’s a web thing (Ruby/Sinatra). What if all I did was web apps, and I wanted a powerful desktop development machine? If I’m already in the habit of looking outside Apple for my stuff, I might very well consider a Linux machine.
The decision to pull out of displays and routers — and Applescript and automation? — may make sense from a point of view that can be expressed in a spreadsheet, but it may not make sense from a psychological point of view.
Maybe — I say “maybe” because I don’t know — maybe shopping elsewhere leads to more shopping elsewhere.
If you’ve seen reports about how the Trump transition is incompetent, vindictive, and corrupt you may have been tempted to take heart that a Trump administration would be bad at actually getting things done.
I was tempted too. But remember — these people got Trump elected. They are effective.
You might think Trump’s too lazy to do the reading and pay attention during briefings. He’s bad at those things. But he’s not lazy — he works harder than you or I do.
I wouldn’t place even the smallest shred of hope in their not getting things done. They will get things done. And you will not like those things.
* * *
Bankers are celebrating Trump’s victory. Of course they are. This administration is not for the white working class — it’s for the top of the 1%.
Trump goes out to an expensive steak restaurant and tells everyone there how he’s going to lower their taxes.
* * *
You might think that at least he’s got an infrastructure plan, so there’s that. Maybe it takes a Republican President and Congress to get infrastructure spending passed.
But hold on: it’s not what you think. It’s the privatization of infrastructure. It’s tax breaks in the hopes that it would make our roads and bridges and airports better.
If it were anything else — if it included actual, needed infrastructure spending — the Republican Congress would kill it, and they’d be able to point to that and claim that they’re independent, that they’re not just blind Trump supporters.
The one good thing you think is on the table is not actually on the table. Don’t be fooled.
* * *
You might be tempted to think there are two Republican parties: the party for the bankers and the party for the white working class. There are not two parties: there is just one, and it is not the party for any working class.
* * *
You remember laughing when Tea Party protestors would hold up signs like “Government Hands Off Medicare!”
Of course it’s silly, but I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt since you can’t fit that many words on a sign. The sentiment is clear: the government should not fuck up Medicare.
But it’s going to. Paul Ryan and friends are going to privatize it, which is another way of saying that it is essentially going away.
So: not only will millions lose their health insurance when ObamaCare is repealed, but future senior citizens will not have the guarantees of health care that current and previous generations received.
Which includes me, and probably you, and a whole bunch of people in that white working class.
This is going to happen. Not down the road some time — next year. 2017.
* * *
Stop thinking that there’s anything that can’t possibly happen.
You might think that there’d be too high a political price to pay for ending Medicare — but then you thought that a guy who brags about sexual assault couldn’t be elected President.
There is no regression to normality. Cooler heads won’t prevail.
I joined Apple in January of 1997, almost twenty years ago, because of my profound belief that “the power of the computer should reside in the hands of the one using it.” That credo remains my truth to this day. Recently, I was informed that my position as Product Manager of Automation Technologies was eliminated for business reasons. Consequently, I am no longer employed by Apple Inc. But, I still believe my credo to be as true today as ever.
Sal has been so awesome for so long, and he deserves a giant round of applause.
And Apple deserves us asking “What the hell, dude?”
As a Mac user and developer, this worries me. If this is part of an effort to so lock up the Mac that scripting and automation of apps is no longer practical, then I would disagree strongly with that effort. But I don’t know that that’s true.
Sal also writes:
Ask Apple. Seriously, if you have any questions or concerns about the future of user automation, ask Apple. If user automation technologies are important to you, then now is the time for all good men and women to reach out, speak up and ask questions.
I’ve been part of the OmniOutliner team for quite a while — and I love working on what I believe is the greatest outliner in the history of the category. And it’s getting even better.
Some of the new features include filtering, distraction-free writing, and customizable keyboard shortcuts. Encrypted documents — super important these days — is coming very soon.
(Note about encryption: OmniFocus already supports end-to-end encryption.)
When you see an (R) next to a politician’s name — Donald Trump (R), Mike Pence (R), Paul Ryan (R), Mitch McConnell (R) — remember that the R stands for Russia.
In the past year I’ve read a bunch of articles telling the stories of the people we’d now call Trump voters.
I have plenty of empathy for them. Always have. Some of these folks are in my family.
But now there are all these calls for us to have empathy for them. Look: we already did. And: they won. They won, and we lost, and we’re supposed to develop empathy for them?
Were I anything but the straight white middle-aged man that I am, I’d say, using my snarkiest voice, Yeah, sure, I’ll get right on that.
I’d much rather they develop empathy for all the people who didn’t vote for Trump. Not for me — not for doing-just-fine white men in Seattle — but for everybody else.
That’s not going to happen. Why would it.
* * *
I want to say that I hate all these people. I don’t hate them, though, and it wouldn’t be true to say it. My anger makes me want to lash out, but even anger has to give way to truth.
Truth matters even when you’re mad. (Trump voters apparently don’t agree.)
* * *
Well, surely, there are some individuals worth hating. I never learned the lessons of Christianity and Star Wars about loving your enemies, so I’m fine with that.
I’m not supposed to be fine with that. I’m supposed to be a good person. But I’m not a good person. Maybe I will be, some day.
But probably not. There’s not enough time left for me to become a good person.
I hope you’re a good person.
* * *
The terrible things are still to come. The anger I feel now doesn’t compare to the anger I’m going to feel.
I was struck by a quote in a Seattle Times article yesterday about an impending walk-out by high school students protesting Trump.
Highline school Superintendent Susan Enfield, who is probably a very good person, wrote, in a letter to families:
Although the election itself is behind us, we are now at the beginning of a long journey toward healing and uniting as a people. That healing process must start in each one of us.
Look — the bad things have barely begun to happen. As bad as the election was, it’s not the bad thing. The bad things are still to come. Healing will be needed, yes, but the bad things are going to happen first.
Another quote, from Senate Majority Leader Mitch McConnell:
We’re all rooting for the President-elect’s success in uniting and leading the country.
The President-elect ran on a platform of us against them. So fuck that.