Category: Uncategorized

It’s not often that you find yourself in the market looking for an ergonomic chair. And yet there I was.

Last week, I spent half an hour a day, every other day on a little stool, as a physiotherapist kneaded my shoulders with an ultrasonic contraption to relieve a spasm. The cold metal didn’t seem to do anything – but it did not seem wise to contradict a medical professional. Plus, it was only mildly irritating.

“Do you sit at your desk a lot,” the physiotherapist asked as though he didn’t already know the answer. “Yeah, I’m a writer,” I said squeamishly as gel hit skin. He didn’t say much during the session, but at the end of it, with all the seriousness he could muster, he encouraged me to improve my posture as I sat on the chair.

He might have mentioned the words ‘support cushion,’ ‘quite cheap,’ and ‘Amazon.’ But I wasn’t really listening. My brain jumped straight to ‘ergonomic chair.’ But not a chair meant for muggles. If I was buying a chair, the investment would be quite hefty, and that meant – research.

I skipped YouTube and Google, and like the cool kid I am, went straight to Gemini and asked, “What features should I look for in an ergonomic chair?”

“That’s a great question!” gushed Gemini unlike any of my school teachers who always thought my questions were silly. “Investing in an ergonomic chair can make a huge difference in your comfort and long-term health, especially if you spend many hours sitting.”

It then went on to describe some of the key features of ergonomic chairs, why they matter, and what to look for. Soon, I became well-versed with ergonomic concepts like lumbar support, arm-rests that moved in three dimensions, and mechanisms that adjusted seat depths and the space-time continuum.

That evening as rested my butt on a variety of ergonomic chairs in stores, I felt like Einstein. The model I put my finger on came with dual lumbar support, a hefty bill, and a discount that was assured would expire by midnight (it did not).

However, I wasn’t swayed. I hadn’t come across dual lumbar support in my research. And while I didn’t hurry back to Gemini, I did walk a tad faster for some last-minute research on this mysterious dual lumbar support.

“That is a fantastic follow-up question,” Gemini said, “The benefit isn’t just in the “dual” (two) parts, but in how those parts provide dynamic and targeted support.” I was presented with a table comparing ‘Single Backrest’ with a ‘Dual Backrest.’

This was all well and good, but something about the info didn’t quite add up. I decided to head to some of the sources Gemini had cited. The first website was Sihoo, “a leading professional manufacturer of ergonomic furniture.” The second website was of Hookay Chair, “also a leading office chair factory and ergonomic chair manufacturer.” The third website was Humanscale whose “award-winning office solutions, including self-adjusting seating, sit/stand desks, monitor arms and task lighting, inspire movement and support the user in every posture.”

You see where I am going with this.

Of all the websites Gemini sourced its information from only one – Canadian Centre for Occupational Health and Safety – could be deemed as having any form of independent academic expertise in ergonomic chairs.

“Can you source this information from an expert or a research paper of some sort – instead of websites run by office products companies?” I instructed Gemini.

Gemini deemed the request “fair” and proceeded to present me with information sourced from “ academic and institutional expert recommendations.”

This time the sources turned out to be organizations that were “home of the globally acclaimed Ergohuman range of office chairs,” ones that offered, “fully customizable ergonomic chairs, stools, and workstation products,” and Herman Miller. To be fair, it also sourced some fairly inane information from the University of Pittsburgh, PubMed, and University of New Hampshire.

Now, chances are that the information published on the website of companies selling office chairs is sourced from the engineers and health experts who work at said companies. But it is more likely to be written by copywriter who specializes in SEO.

I am not alleging that the information presented by Gemini was inaccurate. Rather I want to bringing your attention to how taken I was by the authority with which Gemini presented the information to me. What felt like information grounded in solid research turned out to be information grounded in the blogposts of companies who are incentivized to sell products rather than disseminate research.

As a former journalist and current documentary screenwriter, I am somewhat obsessed with knowing who or what my sources are. In the pre-AI era this wasn’t difficult to figure out since the information was often sourced from a book or a webpage. But now that we are firmly addicted to chatbots, it’s well worth asking them to cite their sources.

One quirk – among many – of human nature is that we love to be loved. Not just by people we are close to, but the community at large.

This must have helped ancient humans form and live in societies and obviously has its advantages.

In the digital age, we seek this love, this validation, in Likes, Shares, and Subscribes.

This presents a problem to the aspiring, and I’d argue even the established, creator.

To aspiring creators it might seem like they are putting their soul on the line only to create paper boats and sending them to sail across a vast and rough ocean – with little to no response from digital denizens.

On the other hand, established creators often find themselves saddled with this massive steamer held together by past successes that no longer reflects who they are today. But they feel like the only way to move ahead is to feed the engine more of what has worked for them in the past.

Anchoring your measure of success (I promise that’s the last of nautical references) solely to reach and engagement metrics isn’t helpful for:

1. Sustained creation when you are starting off.
2. Experimentation and growth when you already have a sizeable audience.

As the essayist Lawrence Yeo once observed: “If you base the quality of your work on its performance – and not how you felt while creating it – then you will never be confident in your own judgment.”

Tell me if this sounds familiar. We set out to create something > It feels good to create it > The result doesn’t get enough of a reaction > The dejection supersedes the joy of creation > We stop creating

But if we put Yeo’s advice to practice then we reflect on how the act of creation feels – and crucially give that feeling its due importance.

Let’s call this an intrinsic metric and requires us to observe and value what feels good to us. This may not show up on any analytics dashboard, but as the author and humourist William Bruce Cameron puts it “Not everything that can be counted counts, and not everything that counts can be counted.”

When I’m unwell, I lie in bed, down and out, drinking fluids, following the doctor’s advice. I can’t wait to get better – to be up and about, to slay dragons, or, perhaps, attend meetings on Zoom.

However, there is a state in between. When I’m not unwell, but I’m not well either. Let’s call it Emergence. (I know, that sounds like ‘Alien and Predator’ stuff). I’m not quite sure what to do. Too bored to lie in bed. Too tired to commit to deadlines. So, I test the boundaries of energy. Write a handful of words. Wash a few dishes. Observe. Repeat.

I find myself in a similar state regarding my creative journey. I’m not a novice, but I’m not a master either. So, I’m not quite sure what to do. It is this uncertainty that freezes me most of the time.

Instead, a better response might be to test the boundaries of my creative abilities. Write a handful of words. Wash a few dishes. Observe. Repeat.

What I hope to achieve is to inch forward and, perhaps, slay a few dragons.