I was having dinner with some friends. It’s hot today here in the UK, 30 degrees, unusual for us. We left the restaurant and I caught a glimpse of my phone.
I keep all notifications off, so I don’t check it out of habit anymore. I saw a message from Substack and didn’t read it properly.
An hour or so later I looked again, and this time I actually read it.
It cheered my heart when I read Chief Absurdist Officer message.
I’ve spent years writing here. There were moments I almost gave up. But it never disappointed me not to look like everyone else, not to follow a template, not to sell whatever’s being sold out there this month. I knew I was writing for no one but myself, at least at first. Every post, every note, was a way of getting better at thinking, at saying what I actually meant. It’s great when people engage, when they like something, ask a question. But I’ve watched people around me get exhausted trying to please an algorithm that keeps pulling them back day after day. I used to do the same thing on LinkedIn, chasing the wave, learning how to work the platform rather than just being on it. I got good enough at it to know it wasn’t what I wanted. I’m still there because I know good people there. I just try to remember it’s built for performance, not for people.
Which is exactly why this hit differently.
I’ve spent months writing about not trusting anything that praises me automatically. About a tool that told me every idea was fantastic, every thought amazing, with nothing underneath it. This wasn’t that. Four people read my work closely enough to choose it, on purpose, with nothing to gain from choosing badly. That’s not the same shape of praise at all. One is manufactured agreement. The other is someone actually spending their attention on you and deciding it was worth it.
I was pleased people are recognising the work. I believe change starts with us, with actually knowing our own worth, because comparing ourselves to others is a setup for failure that leaves nothing but a bad aftertaste. I want diversity of opinion, even when it’s messy, even when people disagree with me. Human judgment is flawed. I’ll still take it over an empty vessel that only ever agrees.
I’m glad there are humans out there reading, judging, evaluating, cheering, uplifting, pushing back on our ideas, people like Dr Sam Illingworth. We need that.
Today was a good day for it. Tomorrow it could go the other way, and that’s fine too. Frustration, low moments, sadness, those are natural. What isn’t natural is letting either the good days or the bad ones take over the whole direction of your life.
Thank you to everyone who read my work with real attention today, the way I try to do for others. The way we keep platforms like this human is by refusing to be synthetic in how we show up, by letting the imperfect version out into the open instead of the polished one.
I think we just want to be seen, not quantified.
About the Author
Tino Almeida is a tech leader, coach, and writer reshaping how we think about leadership in a burnout-driven world. With over 20 years at the intersection of engineering, DevOps, and team culture, he helps humans lead consciously from the inside out. When he’s not challenging outdated norms, he’s plotting how to make work more human, one verb at a time.
Thank you for sharing this, Diamantino. I found myself lingering on your words about people choosing to spend their attention on someone's work. That kind of recognition feels quietly special.