Pride in a Bad Design
I want to discuss a work issue from fifteen years ago. My former boss designed a device he named the Battery Charger Contactor Unit (BCCU). And boy-howdy was he proud of it. Did I mention how small it was? Because he proudly highlighted that aspect to everybody until their ears bled.
When he turned the BCCU over to production, endless problems followed because my boss cut every conceivable corner to reduce the size. However, he was the boss and insisted that the design was exemplary. Side note: The BCCU could have been four times the size, and nobody would have cared. Size reduction somehow became his personal challenge.
He refused to listen to production complaints. “You are not using my test setup correctly.” “Look how small it is!” “The assemblers did not follow my instructions.” Eventually, he had no choice and needed to “make minor tweaks to pacify the naysayers.” Thus, the BCCU quietly underwent three major revisions. Eventually, he pressured production to release the BCCU, and when installed, it never worked correctly. I left the company many years ago, but still keep in contact with my former coworkers. To this day, the BCCU has major issues.
I had nothing to do with the design other than listening to the production complaints, which inspired me to coin a phrase, “pride in a bad design.” This means that a designer cannot get out of their own way to see the flaws. Since those early days, I have used this term many times in my career.
If you’ve read my prior articles, you know I like to tie in writing. It’s all the same. Authors get wrapped up in writing and cannot see colossal mistakes. “Pride in a bad story.” “Pride in an awful character.” The bad writing list goes on.
Have I ever been guilty of this behavior? My second book produced some nasty feedback from my editor. I refused to face the issue and published it. This is a clear case of “pride in a flawed concept.” My mistake became clear with bad reviews forced me to release a second edition to correct the issues.
Yet I don’t think I have covered the pride aspect. My boss was ultra proud of his design. He really went out of his way to show it off. This was especially true of how he reacted to the obvious problems. I see this same behavior when writers react to spot-on negative comments. “You did not understand the character.” “Editors introduced the poor grammar. Not me.” “The plot makes sense when you look at it differently.” “There are many books with this same premise.” “You obviously do not have the literary skills to understand my work.”
And I admit it. I thought my second book was hot stuff. Granted, I would never brag out loud, but still, I was sure the first edition was outstanding work and the second edition watered down the plot. That was years ago, and I recently re-read it last week because I was on a plane and the other files I loaded into my Kindle were corrupt.
All these years later, the story still captivates me. So, I am finally willing to admit it. I did make a mistake when I first published that version. I knew it was a risk then, and I should have listened to myself. I can now say for certain that I ignored my instincts because of my pride. Bummer.
What can authors do to break this cycle? I have learned the hard way to begin a plot by thinking about the big picture. Is this a story that readers will like? Who is the audience? What are the potential plot pitfalls? Yeah… Things I did not do when I began writing my first book and certainly my second. I could have saved a lot of time.
There is another problem. When an author has published, the result is “an open book.” This means that once somebody clicks “buy it now,” they get full access to the good, bad, and ugly. Fortunately, the flaws in my books that I know of have not been too bad. Or at least that is what I tell myself. Nah, that’s not what is going on. My good looks are too intimidating. There’s the pride coming out.
You’re the best -Bill
June 01, 2022 Updated September 12, 2026
When he turned the BCCU over to production, endless problems followed because my boss cut every conceivable corner to reduce the size. However, he was the boss and insisted that the design was exemplary. Side note: The BCCU could have been four times the size, and nobody would have cared. Size reduction somehow became his personal challenge.
He refused to listen to production complaints. “You are not using my test setup correctly.” “Look how small it is!” “The assemblers did not follow my instructions.” Eventually, he had no choice and needed to “make minor tweaks to pacify the naysayers.” Thus, the BCCU quietly underwent three major revisions. Eventually, he pressured production to release the BCCU, and when installed, it never worked correctly. I left the company many years ago, but still keep in contact with my former coworkers. To this day, the BCCU has major issues.
I had nothing to do with the design other than listening to the production complaints, which inspired me to coin a phrase, “pride in a bad design.” This means that a designer cannot get out of their own way to see the flaws. Since those early days, I have used this term many times in my career.
If you’ve read my prior articles, you know I like to tie in writing. It’s all the same. Authors get wrapped up in writing and cannot see colossal mistakes. “Pride in a bad story.” “Pride in an awful character.” The bad writing list goes on.
Have I ever been guilty of this behavior? My second book produced some nasty feedback from my editor. I refused to face the issue and published it. This is a clear case of “pride in a flawed concept.” My mistake became clear with bad reviews forced me to release a second edition to correct the issues.
Yet I don’t think I have covered the pride aspect. My boss was ultra proud of his design. He really went out of his way to show it off. This was especially true of how he reacted to the obvious problems. I see this same behavior when writers react to spot-on negative comments. “You did not understand the character.” “Editors introduced the poor grammar. Not me.” “The plot makes sense when you look at it differently.” “There are many books with this same premise.” “You obviously do not have the literary skills to understand my work.”
And I admit it. I thought my second book was hot stuff. Granted, I would never brag out loud, but still, I was sure the first edition was outstanding work and the second edition watered down the plot. That was years ago, and I recently re-read it last week because I was on a plane and the other files I loaded into my Kindle were corrupt.
All these years later, the story still captivates me. So, I am finally willing to admit it. I did make a mistake when I first published that version. I knew it was a risk then, and I should have listened to myself. I can now say for certain that I ignored my instincts because of my pride. Bummer.
What can authors do to break this cycle? I have learned the hard way to begin a plot by thinking about the big picture. Is this a story that readers will like? Who is the audience? What are the potential plot pitfalls? Yeah… Things I did not do when I began writing my first book and certainly my second. I could have saved a lot of time.
There is another problem. When an author has published, the result is “an open book.” This means that once somebody clicks “buy it now,” they get full access to the good, bad, and ugly. Fortunately, the flaws in my books that I know of have not been too bad. Or at least that is what I tell myself. Nah, that’s not what is going on. My good looks are too intimidating. There’s the pride coming out.
You’re the best -Bill
June 01, 2022 Updated September 12, 2026
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