Tuesday, November 19, 2024
Regression to the mean, or...
Productivity gains are usually temporary.
While I work on a retrospective of the past 4 1/2 years, detailing the
horrors that we all suffered, and my own personal pain, I wanted to examine a
unique aspect of the pandemic: working from home.
During several long and testy arguments with Scott (who else?) We settled on
the following two, mutually exclusive theories: I said that this was a phase, and
people would have to go back to the office, though I later amended this to
hybrid work: let's say 3 days in the office and two days at home. Scott was
convinced that we would all be working from home. Of course, that isn't
possible, but I believe he meant that all those who could work from home would.
Scott's theory was based on the supposition that working from home is better
than having to commute, and people would be happier, more productive, and could
live anywhere they wanted. This was fair, and he wasn't alone in this idea.
However, he had a vested interest in this point of view, since he was convinced
that people would suddenly overrun Upstate cities like Binghamton, where he
owns a house, is convinced is paradise, and the area would experience a renaissance.
Including a dump like Binghamton in this facet of his argument was, is, and
will be utterly ridiculous, so I won't even bother examining it further, but it
may have been accurate for other areas, like Livingston Manor, a small village
in the Catskills. That is worth examining, but let's not get ahead of
ourselves.
I was less sanguine. I reminded Scott, that between the two of us, only one
had a Bachelor's and Master's degree in the subject, and it wasn't he. My undergraduate
Psych degree was spent studying Industrial and Organizational (I/O) Psychology,
purely by accident, and I have a Master's in Human Resource (HR) Management,
this time mostly by accident. I find the fields incredibly fascinating, and
I'm happy for the learning the subjects, even as I don't use either degree for
the most part.
My working theory was that remote work will seem better than having to go to
an office, and that any gains in productivity would be temporary, regress to
the mean, then go below 2019 levels. While I agreed that people would be
happier about not having to drive to work (but check the link below), remote
jobs have their own stressors, and some people would be actually be less happy
with their jobs than if they had to come into work. This is dependent on one's
personality of course, and here is where I have my own vested interest: I
hated, with a burning passion, working from home. For one, I didn't have a good
work space. I had a small computer desk in my bedroom, a gaming laptop, a
crappy chair, and finally a tense home life; meanwhile, I love my office, so I
wanted to go to work. I needed the physical distance, and I work on a beautiful
campus. This dovetails with another source of difficulty for remote workers: work
life balance and separation. I ran into this
myself. When I heard we might be working remotely, I got a Google Voice
account, and I still have it today. I knew that I would be calling students
using my cell phone, and it's not as if I wanted to give students my number.
Best of all, it's a legitimate phone number, local to my area. It's also very
useful when you don't have cell service, say in a another country, but you do
have wi-fi. I can use it anywhere, and people think I'm calling from up the
street. Having that number did include
a downside: people could reach me directly at any time. Two examples included a
student calling me on a Sunday while I was driving, so I couldn't see that it
was a Google call, so I answered it and her questions, though I was really
testy. Time and day was lost during the pandemic, so I do understand it in
hindsight, but I was not happy at the time. Another example was when Carolyn
and I were walking her working dog in November. I got the call at 4:45pm, so I
was still on the clock. A professor called, so I was far more polite this time.
I also remember Carolyn chuckling at my demeanor, but I took it as a
compliment.
Another reason that I hated remote work is that I feel, and other people
have said, that I do my best work talking with students and families face to
face. I take my interactions with students very seriously, and continue to work
on and improve my communication. I can relay information quite well over the
phone, but it's not as effective as sitting with someone. I've been able to
help people with problems and misunderstandings they didn't even know they had
by reading body language and facial expressions. That's lost where we're
talking on the phone. There's also the issue of concentration. People, myself
included, tend to get distracted while talking on the phone. When you're
sitting in an office, you have to be mentally and emotionally present, as well
as physically present. Also, I loved the social interaction. I was miserable.
Thankfully, I fixed the problem earlier than anyone else on campus, but let's
not get ahead of ourselves.
The issue of concentration leads into the larger issue of working remotely:
productivity. My classes taught me that it would indeed increase, though only
temporarily. This was to be expected, at least by me. One of the most
referenced studies on the subject is the Illumination
Experiment. The link attached gives a good run down of the data and
analysis of the study, but it can be summarized as follows: changes to one's
working conditions and the observation by researchers and supervisors will
increase productivity, but the effect is temporary. The researchers increased
the lighting, and productivity increased. They then reduced the lighting, and
productivity also increased. The lighting was brought to normal levels, and
productivity increased as well. It wasn't the lighting that caused the effect;
it was the change itself. It meant that people were paying attention. What was
not studies was whether or not this was a positive for the workers. Was their
stress level increased and worried about getting fired? Did they take more
pride in their duties? We'll never know. What we do know is that after the
employees acclimated to the new circumstances, their output went back to the baseline.
So what happened with remote work during the pandemic? The pandemic only ended,
i.e., no longer a global heath threat around 18 months ago. The
virus is still out there, but vaccines and herd immunity have lessened the
impact. You may get sick, but unless you have a compromised immune system,
you'll recover... probably. (hopefully?) You may not even know you caught it. Regardless,
since this is a recent development, the data is incomplete, but there is some
information available. Working
remotely is less productive than working in a office most of the time. for various reasons. There are those people and jobs where working remotely
results in better output, but for the vast majority of situations, employees do
better work in the workplace. There was an initial increase in productivity,
but that was due to both the change in the circumstances and a sense of group
responsibility. We were all in this together, and people worked harder. As
people got used to working from home, people started working less effectively,
also for various reasons. Yes, they got used to the situation, but also because
of the lack of physical separation between work and home life. The article
above details this nicely. People went for walks, got coffee, picked the kids
up from school, pet the cat, went to the doctor or the grocery store. Whatever
the reason, the pull of needs other than work took precedence. This was to be
expected, though I seemed to be the only one who was saying it.
There are those that did maintain their work, but it was entirely dependent on the individual. Those that lived alone did and are doing more work than those who didn't. Also, if one had a dedicated home office produced more than those working at the kitchen table. If you changed you clothes before and after work, you did more. If you're unusually disciplined, you'll do more work. Much of this is self-selection, not causation, at least in my opinion. Those who are dedicated to their work will do more work, regardless of the circumstances. The steps people can take that are outlined above would be most likely taken by those who are already fully invested in their jobs and careers. I see this in higher education. Students who are smart enough and disciplined enough to get into an Ivy League school do better in all aspects of life than those that don't. Is it internal? Is there something about attending Harvard that causes it? Truthfully, we in education can't be sure. The best guess it that's it both, but the ratios are unknown.
As we end 2024, remote work has increased when comapared to 2019, but it has greatly diminshed when compared to 2020. I and my coworkers are back on campus, thankfully. I'm talking to students, and I'm not getting calls on Sunday. Ironically, now that my living circumstances have changed, I acctually like working from home. It's also not available. I live alone now, and while I don't have a home office, or even a seperate bedroom, I can sit in my chair, look at my laptop, and help students. If there's a major issue, I can tell the student to come into the office. A hybrid schedule seems to be the new remote work, with people coing to the office two or three days a week. This benefits all, and allows for collaberation with cowrkers as well as access to one's boss. These factors are hard to quantify, at least right now. Ten years from now, the data will be more clear. Furthermore, hybrid will fade over time if people aren't keeping up with their work. It will be a perk, not a right.
Hybrid work invovles commuting, and this leads into my favorite part of this tale: Livingston Manor. When the pandemic caused the world to shut down, those with money fled to the hinterlands, and Lvingston Manor qualifes for that description. They'd be working remotely forever, so why not live on 5 acres in the woods? The Internet is good enough, and the houses are large. Here's the problem: it's in the middle of nowhere! Scott predicted it would be an oasis of activity, like New Paltz or Rhinebeck, a playground for Yuppies and Hippies alike. This did happen in the beginning. Home prices exploded, and the commercial strip, as small as it is, did get some new stores, better storefronts, new restuarants and coffee shops, etc. It didn't last; the new businesses closed, and the reality of living in a very small town with limited services began to take hold. As an example, the closest full service supermarket is 11.4 miles away in Roscoe. Add the prospect of commuting to work a few days a week, with White Plains 104 miles each way, and people realized the mistake they'd made. I loved it, but I will admit there was some envy involved. Even including my envy, I always felt that these people were being both short-sighted and cowardly. There's a pandemic once every 100 years or so, and they always end, then things go back to normal. We were all fed the lie that remote work was permanent, and it does still exist, but what were the odds that a specifc person would benefit? Of course, I would have done somthing similar if I could have. I would have rented an AirBnB in Florida for a few months, which were very cheap in the beginning of the pandemic, since no one was traveling, enjoyed both the beach and the fact that everything opened much earlier, and in some cases, didn't close at all. I would have then trundled back to New York during the summer. I'm also not including the negative effect this would have on the family. What did the kids have to do besides stay home and play online? There's nothing for them to do, and that always leads to trouble. What about the husband or wife?
Now these people are stuck. The home prices have plummeted, and most people are either underwater or just at the break even point. The houses aren't selling, and even if they could sell, the buyer would then have to get a new mortgage with a much higher interest rate. As I'm a vicious little troll, I find all this very entertaining.
So who was right and who was wrong? Overall, I was correct. People have to go back to their workplaces, at least some of the time, and remote work overall is fading. Those that fled are now stuck in whatever location they thought would be a safe place. Scott was right in that remote work lasted longer than I thought it would, and that people are generally ahppier, though I need to research it further.
Fianlly, it feels good to get a post up, and with the dam broken, I hope there are many more to come.
Sunday, February 27, 2022
Wait, I've be doing this for how long, or...
17 years?!
Well, yes, it has been 17 years since I started this blog, and while I never went viral, I never got fired either, so let's call this a win. I haven't written much since the pandemic started, as so much of what I thought wasn't that important. Also, I cannot believe the extent to which the world changed, and I can only blame some of it on Covid-19. To my knowledge, I never caught it, though I did get very sick in November of 2019 while driving for the college to Buffalo. We took a side trip to Niagara Falls, and I was surrounded by Asian and Indian tourists. Also, I was bathed in very cold and damp air from the Falls, all while wearing a jacket from New Balance that looked like it could be used for Artic exploration, but was as warming as a wet sheet. It's a great housecoat, but has zero protection from the wind. I would have been better off in a light windbreaker.
All this added up to a very serious and lengthy lung infection. I was sick for weeks, with diminished lung capacity, fever, an unproductive (dry) cough, and cycles of improvement, then getting sick again. As I recall, it took 6 weeks for me to feel better, and weeks after that to completely recover. I cannot say it was Covid, but I never got it after that, and the virus did appear in November of 2019, so it's possible.
With the belated marking of this blog's anniversary, and my impotent rage passes, comes the hope that I will begin writing again, if only for my own benefit. This was a small taste of what I've said was coming on so many levels, and there's so much ground to cover: personal, professional, political, and pecuniary. Where was I wrong? The list is ever increasing. Where was I right? Not as many places as I care to admit. Where did my preparations help? There's one specific answer that surprised me, but I (really, truly, desperately) hope to find more. Where did I not do enough? This one hurts, and it will hurt for a long time. What happened at the college? Grrrr. What happened to higher education generally? We all had our eyes open, that's for sure, and the news was not good. What has happened and will continue to happen to our society and to the children? I really don't want to get into it. Also, I don't want to punch my computer. What did governments do wrong? Ditto, squared, and I need this laptop. What did governments do right? This may be too soon to explore, even counting vaccines. What did I learn? Not as much as one might think.
These questions, and the often painful answers they engender, will provide the map for the blog going forward. The losses we've all suffered have been enormous. I am not the person I was in March of 2020, but who is? This is one of those vacuous statements that sounds pithy and wise, but isn't. Time makes fools of us all is another. No, what I'm really trying to say is that I'm diminished: my world is smaller, and the person I thought I was not the person I turned out to be. I failed, and that will haunt me forever.
With that, let's turn our attention to my field of expertise: financial aid, and what has happened since I last wrote.
Friday, September 03, 2021
Is this it Part 1, or...
Excelsior, a retrospective...
Although I have multiple drafts on multiple topics sitting in my files, I just can't seem to finish one. Some are too dark; some are too personal; one is both, and one is just fucking pointless. The depression we've all suffered during this pandemic has killed my creative drive as well as few other things. As society reopens and I can reengage with work, friends, and all the activities I used to enjoy and, if I'm being honest, took for granted, I feel more and more like my former self. There will be time to appraise what steps were taken to limit (or ignore) the spread of COVID, but it's too soon for an accurate appraisal. Also, I'm way too pissed.
No, if I'm to write a post, I want to look at my area of expertise: financial aid. Specifically, I wanted to examine the prospect of free community college as suggested in the proposed 2021 Federal budget. I've ruminated on this possibility before. The most recent attempt I've had to navigate is, of course, Excelsior, the bane (and savior) of my professional existence. The thoroughly snarky posts I wrote on the subject, when the program was first introduced, were, after 4 years of processing the award, absolutely correct. It is every bit the mess that I thought it would be, and it made me indispensable to the financial aid office. I am the expert I hoped I would be, even as I am always somewhat confused. It's a one-eyed man in the land of the blind scenario, but it helps me professionally, so I guess I shouldn't complain.
The core of my feelings about Excelsior are consistent with any financial aid program that New York State would create at this point: it's all a mirage designed primarily to look good rather than to do good. New York isn't trying to get it right or make it easy, because Albany cannot afford it. The correct approach would have been to take TAP, the standard NYS aid program, and give the maximum award to whomever already qualified, but that would have required much more money and generated far less positive press. My derision isn't entirely fair, of course. Students do initially benefit from Excelsior, and for those who manage to keep the program all 4 years, it's a Godsend. Politicians can rightfully point to that small subset and claim Excelsior is an incredible benefit. Managing to keep the money both academically and professionally is the crux of the problem, of course, and the vast majority do not, instead owing money to New York State, either because the student didn't finish, didn't finish on time, or had to move out of New York after college to find a job. You owe New York a year of living and working in the Empire State for every year you get the scholarship, and people often forget that after 4 years of school. I blame binge drinking. The bulk of these requirements mean more work for financial aid counselors, not less.
The other side to financial aid is the Federal government. There's plenty of bureaucracy, contradictions, and confusion to keep all of us busy, and some of that is by design. We have to report our students' progress, whether or not our students are working upon graduation, how much they earn, if they're working in their field of study, making certain they are attending class, etc. The common theme of all this reporting is that the government's money isn't being fraudulently obtained or wasted by either the schools or the students, and that we are delivering the promised educational value. New York isn't all that different, but the Federal info dumps are mostly automated at this point, while Albany's work is often manual, with Excelsior a prime example. Aside from efficiency, the main difference between Washington and NY programs is that the federal government can create money from thin air while a state cannot. If DC has the will to throw fake money at a problem, it will get tossed. How that money is disbursed is another matter.
Continued in part 2.
Monday, September 07, 2020
COVID Part 1: In the beginning there were shortages, or...
In writing about financial collapse, I've always held one belief over all others: saving your way through this great reset will be nearly impossible. Bottom line, it isn't practical for anyone but the most hardcore preppers. This doesn't mean I and everyone else couldn't be better prepared. Still, something always goes wrong in a way you couldn't anticipate, and you have the hope someone you know has what you need, be it a consumer good or a service. Nowhere was this more apparent than with paper products and meat.
Although the pandemic started in December, it didn't really hit until mid-March, with New York's cases and deaths exploding through May. As the economy shut down, people were forced to stay and work from home, and suddenly all these biological functions, usually completed at your job with supplies provided by your employer, were now taking place at your home, so a few rolls of toilet paper and paper towels weren't enough. On this topic I consider myself an accidental prepper, since I shop at BJ's and therefore buy in bulk, so we were decently stocked. We did run low from time to time, which for us was a normal supply for most households, but I never felt safe in what we had.
Others were not so lucky; BJ's went weeks without either product, and on the rare days when it did have some, both were sold out within the first two hours of opening. This was with the store rationing the products. Everyone could get one package of each, regardless of size, and it was enforced. I never tried to get around the rule by buying multiple cases in the same day on different transactions, but I doubt it would have worked anyway. You have to scan your membership card, so the store would know if you're buying too many of the limited items. If we were running low, and BJ's was out of what we needed, I fell back on a strategy I learned while looking for gas in the aftermath of Superstorm Sandy: go local. The smaller convenience stores almost always had a roll or two, and Foodtown sometimes had some, though not as often. You were limited as to how much you could buy at all stores, but our household of three managed. You also couldn't be picky. The Foodtown brand of either paper was terrible, and people bought them as a last resort, but they were purchased. One day I saw every almost all types of toilet paper gone, save for a huge pile of Foodtown's generic stock. I had to laugh; evidently people still had some standards. They still sold out by the end of the day, and yes, I went back to check. Of course, I bought a roll for myself and suffered for the sake of the experiment. Why paper products were in such limited supply was evidently due to separate supply chains, one for commercial properties, and one for grocery stores, and no companies pivoted in time to make up for the shortfall. It's a lost opportunity.
Meat was a similar story, but with more urgency. Carolyn works with a sniffer dog, and the puppy has a sensitive stomach, so she has special dog food which is supplemented with boiled chicken breast. It's not really optional, unless we want to buy new carpets every few weeks. In fact, she eats so much more of the latter versus the former that you could switch the two. Here things were more dicey. Again, we never ran out, but it was much closer, and convenience stores usually don't carry raw meat. The answer was to get it whenever we could, regardless of the quality or price, and cross our fingers. I'm concentrating on raw chicken breast, but all meats were in short supply. I'll eat anything, but we had to have chicken breast. If we had a temporary surplus, we threw it in the freezer. We made it through, thankfully. The reduced supply was caused by meat packing plants and slaughterhouses having to shut down because of COVID sweeping through the employees. It took an executive order declaring these facilities as essential to get them back to work.
There are still sporadic shortages of both meat and paper goods, but nothing like April and May, when I trolled through BJ's everyday, trying to find what we needed and get some exercise at the same time. Still, stocking up now is wise, and out attic has plenty of both paper goods as a reserve. These are minor examples, and not having toilet paper or paper towels wouldn't have been an emergency. Not having chicken breast would have been more serious. How about diapers or baby formula? Baby wipes were also in very short supply. I'm not aware of any medical shortages beyond testing capacity for COVID and the few proven medications used to treat the disease when used off-label. However, major shortages could have occurred, and I, along with most people, would have been caught unprepared.
Sunday, June 21, 2020
Still on pause...
For someone who's been writing about the end of the world for 15 years, I've been all but mute through this whole pandemic saga. I simply couldn't out into words the fear, sadness, anger, frustration, and all these other negative emotions that overwhelmed me and so many others. As I type this on 06/15/20, we're still knee-deep in the crisis, though things have eased somewhat. Millions are sick; hundreds of thousands have died, and the economy is all but ruined for the next few years - if we're lucky. Basically, we are teetering on the edge of complete collapse, and I'm not even discussing the civil unrest going on right now due to the tragic death of a black man in Minneapolis.
Setting aside the horrific death of George Floyd, since that deserves its own post, the world really isn't ending, but dramatically changing due to circumstance that would have been impossible to predict, other than another epidemic was statically inevitable. President Trump disbanding the pandemic response team obviously didn't help our..., well..., response.
Still, I believe my lack of writing is my own shame. On at least one level, I was absolutely correct, and on another mostly correct, but on so many others, I was not. I have been preparing for the end of the world, or at least I flattered myself by thing that I was, spending all this time and money studying, gaining skills, gathering documents, ad nauseam, and all my efforts amounted to almost nothing. I was safe enough where I lived, and my job continues to exist, so we're not in any immediate danger of homelessness. None of us have gotten sick; there is plenty of food in the fridge; we have kept our jobs even as our income is down, but we did not thrive, especially in the beginning. This could be seen as being successful in my preparations, but it didn't feel that way. Carolyn and I are very lucky in that she has a position in an essential industry, and I can work from home, and that the lockdown began in the slowest time of year for me, but none of that was designed to survive a disaster. When the pandemic started, I was as hopeless as everyone else, prepping be damned.
Nowhere was this more clear than with the death of my mother. Although tragic, her passing was not a surprise - her health was poor and she fell out of her bed some months prior, breaking her hip. We knew what was coming. Still, I was unable to visit her at the end because of COVID-19, and Karl and I have not been able to have a proper funeral over two months later. We may not be able to have one until there's some sort of vaccine, and if we're very lucky, that might be November or December. I'm also quite worried about my dad in Germany. If he dies in the near future, I may not even be able to enter the country to help with the burial.
All of these circumstances made me realize a flaw in the logic of so many in the survivalist/prepper/expat/FIRE communities. As dire as our predictions usually are, most of us assume, to one degree or another, the existence of the system, however one defines it. Furthermore, it is required for all but the most extreme members of these groups, and the vast majority have plans and expectations based on what the system provides, myself absolutely included. In March and April, it seemed those visions of the future were gone forever.
Life will go on, in whatever form it takes. For those of us who survive more or less in tact, we will have much work to do. We'll mourn our dead, and adjust to whatever we define as normal going forward. I'll bury my mom, and soon my dad, if needed, and if I'm allowed. Until then, I will wait, walking next to the river, working from home, and castigating myself for the weakness in my approach. I'll also be posting, since the damn has been broken.
Friday, May 29, 2020
The world is PAUSED, or...
When historians and pundits look back at our current situation, will they look at the loss of life, the political blame game, or the economic damage? I have a feeling it will be the last facet more than the others. The planet is all but shut down, all because of a virus previously known for causing the common cold. The New York City area has been hit especially hard, due to our walking culture and population density. Southern Westchester became an epicenter, with New Rochelle on full lockdown, enforced by the National Guard. The story was published 3 weeks ago and the forced quarantine has been lifted, only to be replaced by a more general shutdown all over the state. Stores are closed; people are either working from home or are laid off, hoping for a lifting of these conditions or unemployment. There's a massive stimulus bill preparing to shower money on businesses and individuals. It won't be enough, unless people are also free to move about, spending and earning as they go.
I share a text chain with Scott and two other guys with a similar political and economic world view, and unless I feel I have something helpful or interesting to say, I usually stay quiet. One of the things I did say, as the four of us were debating stimulus, New York's policy choices, etc. was that money is basically an illusion. It has value because we say it does, and the government enforces that belief with the force of law behind it. I've said much the same on this blog. The economy is not an illusion, but because it uses currency, rather than the direct barter of physical goods and services, it does require some degree of faith. I believe this dollars I'm receiving today will allow me to buy something I need in the future. Right now I can't buy anything beyond food and gas. Even Amazon is delaying shipments on non-essential items, but I haven't been tempted to waste money shopping online anyway.
Wednesday, March 11, 2020
The State of Financial Aid part 4, or...
Please read part 1 here, part 2 here, and part 3 here.
In the months that have transpired since I started this series, all Hell has broken loose in the form of the common cold. Because of that, what I was going to write in an effort to provide an overview doesn't really matter. There's a nasty bug that needs swatting. Time to move on.