Two times two: when two people are writing the same story

The shared story matters more than motivation

I don't think motivation is the most important part. What matters most is the story you both want to write. When that story is shared, the motivation comes from it on its own.

When two people really want to make the same thing, neither of them has to drag the other along. You don't have to wake up wondering how to get the other person excited about today. The drive is already there.

That sounds like a small thing, but it frees up a lot of energy. If half your time goes into keeping the other person on board, you're left with half for the actual work. When you don't have to, all of it goes into the work.

And you can see it. A message comes in late in the evening because the other one thought of something and couldn't wait until morning. Nobody asked for it.

A shared story doesn't mean the same life

By a shared story I don't mean you have to want the same things in everything. One of you might dream of a sandy beach and palm trees. The other wants lakes and spruce forest. It doesn't have to be the same.

The shared story is something else. Wanting to make great things. Giving clients the kind of service you'd be proud of yourself. And succeeding at what you do.

When that part is shared, the other differences don't matter much. They can even help, because each of you brings different places, different people and a different way of looking at things.

The garden of ideas starts to come alive

In my last post I compared a thought to a seed that needs light and water. When you work as a pair, two people are looking after that garden.

One throws in a half-finished thought. The other picks it up and takes it somewhere the first one would never have thought of. Then it comes back, and something else gets added. After a while neither of you really remembers whose idea it was in the first place.

I think that's a good sign. It means the idea has grown bigger than either of the original thoughts.

It's fine to disagree. You should

At this point a lot of people think a good partner is someone you agree with. I think it's almost the opposite.

If two people agree on everything, one of them is kind of unnecessary. At least in the sense that they don't bring anything the other doesn't already have.

Good disagreement is honest. You say it straight: I think we should do this differently. How we handle this, in what order, what level we're aiming for. No beating around the bush, and no swallowing your opinion just so the day goes a bit smoother.

But that honesty can't be about winning. The question isn't whose idea is right. The question is how we get to the best possible result, and whether we understand what each of us can bring to it.

Take the structure of a client's website. I can be sure a certain section needs to move up. The other person can be just as sure it'll mess up the whole page. If we both just defend our own position, one wins and the other quietly stews about it. If we ask why the other one sees it that way, there's often a third option. And it's usually better than either of the originals.

That's where two times two comes from. You handle the disagreement in a positive way, you understand each other, and what each of you knows multiplies instead of just adding up.

When it turns into a power struggle

Then there's the other side. If every disagreement turns into a question of who gets to decide, the energy goes to completely the wrong place.

A power struggle shows in small things. The other person's suggestion isn't really listened to; you're just waiting for your turn. Decisions get made behind someone's back because it's easier. Your own idea has to win, even if it's no longer the best one.

Then you're back to one plus one. Two people working in the same place, but not together. The impact isn't much, and often it's worse than if each of them just did their own thing.

Two times two doesn't happen by itself

I don't think ending up on the same project with the right person is just luck. Of course you need the shared story. But on top of that, you have to want to understand the other person, even when they're getting on your nerves.

When those two things are in place, disagreements become fuel instead of friction. And then two people make something neither of them would have made alone.

To me, that's one of the biggest forces there is in making things.