02.09.2026 Diary II When what you do goes unseen, it hurts everyone
How do you tell a blind person from someone who closes their eyes? The thinking behind my work is invisible, and invisible effort gets counted as never done.
02.09.2026 Diary Page II
Blindness prevents seeing, and so does closing our eyes.
I want to start with a simple question: how do we tell a blind person from someone who closes their eyes?
I am not asking this to be sarcastic. Quite the opposite, I have been thinking about it more lately. Because sometimes there is a very big difference between truly being unable to see and doing everything you can not to see.
I spent a long time trying to succeed in my working life. But looking back today, I realize that what tired me most was not the work. It was the very paths I had been forced to learn.
To do even the simplest job, sometimes you have to be scolded, to be given information piece by piece, to be unable to reach current information on time, to learn only how to do something and not why you are doing it. While trying to do a job well, you spend more effort finding the information that will allow you to do the job than doing the job itself.
And then at some point you notice this: while you are producing things, what you are doing is not visible.
I build digital strategy. I think about where a brand stands today, where it needs to go, what a piece of data is saying, which need will be met through which channel, which content will be produced and why. For this I research for hours, connect data to data, and sometimes look at details nobody else has looked at.
But most of the time only the result is visible.
The thinking behind that result is not visible.
Why a strategy was built that way, which possibility was eliminated, which data was taken into account, which risk was noticed in advance: none of it is visible.
Sometimes it is not even enough that the work you do goes unseen. Your unseen effort is treated as if it had never been done.
I think this was one of the things that wore me out most over the years.
Because there is also a very big difference between not knowing something and not having been taught it.
Sometimes people ask you, "why don't you know?"
But perhaps the real question should be this:
"What were you given so that you could learn this?"
For a very long time I had to find for myself the information that was not put in front of me. I tried to do current work with outdated information. I tried to build the whole out of things explained in pieces. I learned sometimes from other people's anger, sometimes from my own mistakes, and sometimes by hitting the same wall again and again.
I cannot say that someone taught me many of the things I know today.
I found most of them myself.
Maybe that is why I can no longer look only at the result of a piece of work. I am also interested in how something came to be, and in what was not seen while it was coming to be.
Because blindness is not always about the eyes.
Sometimes the information exists but you cannot reach it.
Sometimes the data exists but nobody looks.
Sometimes the work done is right there but nobody sees it.
And sometimes, because seeing would bring a responsibility with it, people prefer to close their eyes.
I think I now understand the difference better.
Being unable to see is one thing. Choosing not to see is another.
And perhaps this is exactly one of the things we most need to talk about in working life.