The anatomy of a problem
I just watched Cania Citta talk about how to see “problems” properly. And it turns out I’ve often been busy fixing things that weren’t actually problems.
Not because I’m too lazy to think. But because nobody ever taught me how to put the word “problem” in the right place.
A problem has three parts
Imagine you want to go to the little shop down the street to buy eggs.
- Goal: get to the shop.
- Reality: you’re still at home.
- Problem: the 200 meters you haven’t walked yet.
A problem always has these three parts: the goal, where you are now, and the gap in between.
If one of them isn’t clear, what we’re calling a “problem” is really just a complaint that hasn’t taken shape yet.
Turns out this is something I do every day. I say “my team isn’t working well together.” “The work keeps piling up.” “I can’t focus.” They sound like problems. But try putting them into that pattern: what’s the goal? Where are you now? Where exactly is the gap?
Usually there’s no answer. And yes, that means I don’t have a problem yet. I’m just annoyed.
Is it really a problem?
The analogy from Cania that stuck with me most is a leaking roof.
Imagine you panic, call a handyman and buy a bucket. You’re really busy dealing with the leaking roof. But every time it rains, no water ever drips.
That means there’s no leak. However good the handyman is, they can’t fix something that doesn’t actually exist. And it made me wonder: how many of the “problems” I obsess over every day are really my own version of the leaking roof?
Something I ran into yesterday showed me another side of this: a deadline that suddenly got moved up.
For me, a tight deadline is a problem. My goal: do the work properly, without bugs, and still get enough sleep. The gap: time that suddenly got cut in half.
For the client, a tight deadline isn’t a problem. It’s actually the solution. They’re chasing momentum in the market, and every day of delay means a competitor gets there first.
So problems are relative. Relative to whose goal it is, and to who’s feeling it.
Four steps, in order
Cania’s framework is actually really simple. Four steps, in order:
- First, make sure of the goal.
- Second, point to exactly where the gap is.
- Third, trace the cause and effect from upstream to downstream.
- Fourth, only then think about solutions.
And I realized I almost always jump straight to step four. Straight to looking for solutions when the goal isn’t even clear yet.
I tried this framework on an old complaint of mine: “busy, but not getting anywhere.”
Step one: what’s the goal? Turns out I didn’t have a clear answer. Just a vague “I want to be successful.”
If step one is already shaky, the next three steps won’t connect. No wonder every solution I’ve tried so far never quite landed.
Three questions I ask now
Now I have three small questions I ask myself whenever I’m about to call something a “problem”:
- What’s the goal, and whose goal is it?
- Can I point to the gap concretely?
- Is the leaking roof really there, or is it just my assumption?
If I can’t answer those three yet, I usually don’t have a problem yet. I just need to sit down for a moment and think more slowly.
Watch the full video, “Anatomy of a Problem | The Trial”, with Cania Citta (in Indonesian). It’s really worth watching.