
Every type of business depends on the skills, imagination and perseverance of its employees. I’m biased, but I believe this is especially true in high tech.
Colorado’s high-tech history stretches back to at least June 1960. That’s when Hewlett-Packard first expanded beyond California, opening a facility in Loveland.
My career in technology started in 1981 at HP in Loveland. By then, there were 3,000 of us in the four huge buildings atop the hill at 14th Street and Taft Avenue. Thousands more were working for HP in Fort Collins, Greeley and Colorado Springs. In the years since, many prominent tech companies have come and gone.
Today, the latest wave of high tech is an important contributor to Colorado’s economy. The 2015 Colorado Business Economic Outlook estimates 20,600 people are currently employed here in computers and electronics. That’s 15 percent of the state’s manufacturing workforce.
Looking behind the curtain, high-tech workers can be especially hard on themselves. Sure, the perks are great: massages at your desk, espresso bars in the cafeteria, onsite laundry pickup and delivery. The intent, of course, is to keep everyone in the building, grinding away on the next big thing.
Here’s a blinding glimpse of the obvious: When we’re deep into it, we can lose perspective. We forget that a change of scenery and a change of pace can reanimate our burned-out brains.
As I learned in the mid-’90s, helping manage an Internet startup, twenty-something entrepreneurs hate this concept. They’ll consistently rack up 100 hours a week to make a statement to partners, employees, investors and suppliers. They despise anyone who isn’t 1,000 percent committed to the cause.
At age 24, I spent a year working 12 hours a day, 84 hours a week. I was leading a product launch and it was my first big chance to strut my stuff. In the end, it was successful. But along the way, I churned out some clichéd collateral, permanently alienated a co-worker/friend, and destroyed a relationship.
Here’s my takeaway: If you burn the candle at both ends and use a blowtorch in the middle, it won’t be long until your world is a smoldering puddle of wax. Those closest to you, who stayed clearheaded, saw you slip below the “efficient and effective” line.
If you’re brave enough to hear the answer, you might ask them when you started to lose it. They’ll know.
Don’t get me wrong. A big push will always be mandatory. With so many companies moving from “rightsizing” to “dumb-sizing,” the survivors carry more of the load.
That’s why I try to take a meaningful break at least twice a year. After a major rollout, four things are at the bottom of my “favorites” list: airplanes, rental cars, hotel beds and restaurant food.
Hanging out at home and strumming a guitar helps me rewind my mind. So does getting in the car with my wife and driving somewhere like Steamboat where we can spend a week lingering in a quiet bookstore, a lively coffee shop, or an offbeat gallery.
For me, the optimum vacation is two weeks. If you’re thinking “Must be nice!” or “I don’t have time for that,” I hear you. I’ve been there.
But even if you took a couple of nine-day breaks a year, how refreshed would you feel? How many truly useful ideas would you generate when you re-engaged at work? How happy would your associates feel if your frown muscles atrophied?
Trust me: If the place falls apart while you’re gone, you’ve been doing something wrong all along.
Ross Van Woert is founder and manager of a marketing consulting and communications agency that specializes in high technology.
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