The ceramic mug sat on the corner of the wooden desk. The mug had a small chip on the rim. The chip was shaped like a crescent moon. Staff members used the mug to hold pens. I tested all the pens that morning. Three pens were dry. I threw the dry pens into the trash. One pen worked well.

The manager walked into the room. The manager carried a laptop. The manager placed the laptop on the desk. The manager said we were changing the system. The manager said the ledger was too slow. The manager said the ledger was not efficient. The manager said we needed a tagging system. The manager showed us the screen. The screen had many boxes. The boxes were empty. The manager said we would fill the boxes with tags.

The Flattening of the Detail

I looked at the tags. The tags were simple words. One tag said “Berry.” One tag said “Mint.” One tag said “Tobacco.” I thought about the customers. I thought about the man who came in on Tuesdays. The man liked a specific berry flavor. The man liked the berry flavor because it was not too sweet. The man liked the berry flavor because it had a clean finish.

The tag only said “Berry.” The tag did not say “not too sweet.” The tag did not say “clean finish.” The tag was just a word. The manager said the tags would make everything clear. The manager said anyone could look at a tag and know what to sell. I did not agree. I did not say anything.

I watched the manager type. The manager typed the names of the products. The manager clicked the tags. The manager looked happy. The manager thought the knowledge was now in the computer. The knowledge was not in the computer. The computer only held the labels. The knowledge stayed in my head. Then the knowledge began to leave.

We stopped using the ledger. We put the ledger in a drawer. The drawer was at the bottom of the desk. I missed the ledger. I missed the notes. When a customer walked in, I looked at the computer. I saw the tags. I saw the product called the MT35000 Turbo. The tags for the MT35000 Turbo were “Berry” and “Ice.” These tags were correct. But the tags were not enough.

The MT35000 Turbo had a specific puff capacity. The MT35000 Turbo had a specific feel in the hand. The customer asked me if the flavor was strong. I looked at the tag. The tag did not tell me if the flavor was strong. The tag only told me the flavor was “Berry.”

I felt the loss of the details. The details are what make a specialist a specialist. A generalist knows the tags. A specialist knows the substance behind the tags. We were becoming generalists. We were following the dropdown menu. The dropdown menu had limits. The limits were the walls of our expertise.

Complexity Requires Language

When you limit the words you use, you limit the things you can know. I noticed this with the dogs I train. If you only have two commands, the dog only has two behaviors. If you want a complex behavior, you need a complex language. The tagging system was a simple language. It was too simple for a complex world.

I looked at the collection of products. We had many flavors. We had Lost Mary vape flavors that were very different from one another. Some flavors were in the Tropical family. Some flavors were in the Lemonade family. The tagging system put them into groups.

Grouping things is helpful for a computer. Grouping things is not always helpful for a human. A human wants to know why one Lemonade flavor is different from another Lemonade flavor. The human wants to know the nuance.

The manager showed me a report. The report had numbers. The numbers showed that we were tagging items faster. The manager was proud of the speed. I thought about the customers who left. I thought about the customers who looked confused. There is a statistic about this. For every 10 people who ask a computer for a recommendation, 7 people leave without buying anything.

This happens because the computer does not understand the “why.” The computer only understands the “what.” The “why” is the part that lives in the conversation. The “why” is the part that lived in our ledger. I started to forget the names of the regular customers. I did not need to remember their names. The computer remembered their names.

“The tagging system was like a map that had no hills. The map showed the roads. The map showed the turns. The map did not show the climb.”

I did not need to remember their preferences. The computer remembered their tags. But the tags were flat. The tags had no life. I saw the MO20000 PRO on the screen. The computer said it was a popular item. The computer said the flavor was “Mint.” I knew that this specific mint was different. It was a smooth mint. It was a mint that did not hurt the throat. The tag did not have a box for “does not hurt the throat.”

The Truth in the Stains

I decided to test the pens again. I found a pen that worked. I opened the drawer. I took out the ledger. The ledger was dusty. I wiped the dust off with my sleeve. I looked at the last entry. The last entry was from three months ago. I wrote a new entry.

I wrote about a customer who liked the Tobacco flavor. I wrote that the customer liked the Tobacco flavor because it reminded him of his grandfather’s pipe. There was no tag for “grandfather’s pipe.” There would never be a tag for “grandfather’s pipe.”

The manager saw me writing in the ledger. The manager asked why I was using the old book. I told the manager the computer was missing something. The manager looked at the screen. The manager said the computer had everything. The manager pointed to the metadata. The manager pointed to the categories. The manager said the data was perfect. I looked at the ledger. The ledger was not perfect. The ledger had ink stains. The ledger had messy handwriting. But the ledger had the truth.

Specialization is about the truth of the product. When a store focuses only on one brand, like Lost Mary, the staff should know more than the tags. They should know the difference between the Turbo mode and the Smooth mode. They should know how the flavor changes when the battery is low. They should know these things because they have used the products.

They have talked to the people who use the products. I watched a new employee use the system. The new employee was fast. The new employee clicked the boxes. The new employee told a customer that a flavor was “Tropical.” The customer asked if it tasted like pineapple or mango. The new employee looked at the screen. The screen did not say.

The new employee told the customer it was just “Tropical.” The customer did not buy the product. The customer wanted the mango. The tag had failed the customer. The tag had failed the employee.

I realized that we were losing our value. Our value was not in the inventory. Our value was not in the website. Our value was in the nuance. If we became just a collection of tags, we were no better than a vending machine. A vending machine is efficient. A vending machine is fast. But no one asks a vending machine for advice. No one trusts a vending machine to understand their taste.

Recording the Unrecordable

I kept the ledger on the desk. I put the ceramic mug on top of the ledger. I used the mug to hide the book from the manager. When the manager was not looking, I wrote in the book. I wrote about the Lemonade flavors. I wrote about how the pink lemonade felt different from the yellow lemonade. I wrote about the cooling agents. I wrote the things that the tags could not hold.

The tagging system stayed. The manager bought more computers. The manager added more tags. We now had fifty tags. None of the fifty tags could describe the way a customer smiles when they find the exact flavor they were looking for. The tags could not record the relief of a customer who found an authentic product after buying a fake one elsewhere.

I continue to train the dogs. I continue to test the pens. I know that a tag is just a shadow. The product is the substance. The experience is the substance. If you only look at the shadow, you will eventually forget what the object looks like. I refuse to forget. I will keep writing in the ledger. I will keep the chipped mug. I will keep the knowledge that does not fit into a box.

The database kept the name of the flavor but the database lost the reason people liked the flavor.

We are now in a time where everyone wants to categorize. Everyone wants to filter. Filtering is good for finding things. Filtering is bad for experiencing things. When you filter out the noise, you often filter out the music.

The informal knowledge of the staff was the music of the business. The tagging system was just the silence between the notes. I prefer the noise. I prefer the messy, unorganized, deeply felt reality of knowing a product inside and out. That is what it means to be a specialist. That is why the ledger stays on my desk.