Recently, I’ve started to appreciate just how much of a blessing and a curse it can be to see the world in terms of details that are slightly off. As an example, let’s start in my apartment. I think it looks nice. The furniture is well arranged. The colors blend together pleasantly. The shelves and art on the walls are level and symmetrical where it makes sense, and satisfyingly asymmetrical where it doesn’t. Thanks to the combined anxiety and obsessiveness over interior design that Emily and I harbor, it is a lovely space in which to spend time, day and night.
However, when I sit down on our couch to relax, I quickly slide into a tendency to notice something completely trivial that I feel needs adjusting. If I’m not careful, I’ll get up immediately to do it, or stew over it in irritation while I’m supposed to be calmly enjoying my leisure time. Maybe one of the doors on the TV console is drooping and a screw needs tightening. Maybe a picture frame has slid off center. Maybe there’s a dead leaf still clinging to one of our house plants.
If this makes me sound like a lot of fun to be around, just wait until you join me in the kitchen. I’ve inherited my mother’s penchant for liking things in that sanctuary to be ever just so. Dishes, utensils, pots and pans shall all be in their rightful place! There is an equilibrium to the spice cabinet! One must squeeze half a lemon into a glass before pouring a can of seltzer over it, not after! The other day while making dinner (taco night), I was browning ground turkey on the stove and took a second to glance over at Emily’s guacamole-making station. I couldn’t resist a reminder about throwing salt and pepper into the mix, to which Emily rightfully responded that I should stop micromanaging her when we cook together. My bad! Genuinely my bad.
Now, should I go back to mentioning the good aspects of attention to detail? Yes, sure, let’s try to keep this balanced. At work, people generally want and prefer attention to detail. Micromanagement of course happens there too—all the time—but getting things right is sort of more important to most companies’ bottom line than employee feelings, whether or not they’ll admit it. So when I’m focused and nit-picky in my capacity as a content designer for generative AI products at Meta, that’s much more appreciated than easing up and more or less saying “doesn’t need a close look, it’s fine!” before pushing an experience live that millions or even billions of people may interact with eventually.
So. Is attention to detail good? The answer(s) I net out with are kind of a copout: I’m not sure. Yes and no. It depends. But they’re also mostly true in my experience, and I know that because I have the same answer(s) to the question of whether or not an extremely carefree nature is good. I’m not sure. Yes and no. It depends. Ultimately anxiety can save you, and it can also imprison you. And should you know someone with a high attention to detail who is also extremely carefree, I don’t believe you, but please introduce me anyway. If they’re real, that person has it all figured out.
As someone who now has the time
but not the inclination to reorganize the spice drawer, I also enjoyed this piece. I can’t help but offer what you expect from me. (Was this a set up?) That is, in my experience, it’s ultimately the balance and interaction between attention (to detail) and awareness (of the big picture) that’s important. Awareness and attention. Big picture and in the weeds. Forest and the trees. Overhead lamps and flashlights. Zoom out and zoom in. Seasoned guac and low sodium. We need them all. It’s the balance (and the related counter-balancing) that’s the key.
And to me, attention to detail gets a bad rap. It’s an easy thing to belittle. I know of no successful person in any endeavor that was not focused on the important details.
Haha this made me laugh and I really enjoyed the read.