We happen to talk a lot about the impostor syndrome these days. No wonder — it seems to be an important subject. But what is it? That feeling of faking it while others clearly know what’s they’re doing.
Many attempts have been made to clarify the issue. Explaining that it is OK, that we all feel that way going through life. Et cetera et cetera. Some advice has gone as far as making the impostor syndrome a badge of honor.
Cross-posted: LinkedIn, Medium
If you happen to work in analytics, data science or business intelligence, you’ve probably seen one of the iterations of this Gartner’s graph on stages of data analysis in a company:
The figure above shows various stages of analytics maturity, from “descriptive” to “prescriptive”. I’ve seen it so many times, it became an eyesore to me.
There is nothing wrong with it. This look nicely breaks down the evolution of analytics into understandable parts and pairs each stage with a question to be answered: what happened, why did it happen, what will happen, how can we make it happen.
(One year after building it and forgetting it) Cross-posted: Medium
Is it just me, or is your hard drive also full of abandoned projects, ideas et cetera? I know I’m not alone.
Cleaning up my R folder the other day, I stumbled upon a file I hardly remember creating. It is was a Shiny app built to help one calculate the hourly rate of services, given a desired income and an amount of time working (billable hours in a day, days in a week, weeks in a year).
Cross-posted: Medium, LinkedIn
Hey, analyst, how is life? Talk to me. Do you love what you do for life, do you like all things data?
Yet, do you sometimes feel like you’re a Sisyphus rolling a giant rock of data up the hill every day, only to see it go down with a racket in the evening (and you know what you’re going to do tomorrow)? Or, do you imagine yourself being a plate spinner at a circus, only instead of plates and poles you’ve got five dozen reports to spin, and instead of an entertained crowd you’ve got your co-workers, managers and senior executives watching your “performance” and asking to add more plates, and God forbid any one plate falls?
About a month ago, I wrote a little article about the MPAA rating system. I set up to find out if their lettering system does any justice to the actual content seen on the screen. Briefly speaking, it does, but with caveats.
One of such caveats was the effect of profanity. What my quick and dirty data analysis showed was that profanity was the sure thing that could send a movie into an R category: