The surprising lesson a 13-month old can teach you about data

I recently had the joy of looking after my 13-month old nephew for the night, the experience of which took me back ...

I’ve two daughters, the youngest of which is seven. Tiredness largely wiped my mind of the finer details of looking after a little one. But it all came screaming back to me when my nephew awoke at 3:30am and wouldn’t settle again for over an hour.

Unused to this, the next day I was a wreck.

But before this, we'd spent the day playing and having a whale of a time.

His little laugh is infectious. And shows itself, in particular, when you chase him as he army crawls away as fast as his little legs will allow, knowing full well you’re in hot pursuit - resulting in regular bouts of belly laughing.

Also, like me, he likes his food. He particularly enjoyed his meatballs and spaghetti, even if much of it ended up on the floor.

And he makes a wonderful babbling sound when he wants your attention for something. An adorable noise that makes you want to chew on his chubby little cheeks.

Only twice were quick reflexes called for as he rolled perilously close to the edge of the bed. And a diving save prevented him from falling backwards off the couch.

All in all, given we’re 6 years out of practice, we survived and had lots of fun.

This said, it was wonderful to pass him back the following day. He'd worn us out.

But the intricacies of our one night of ‘upbringing’ left me feeling a little nostalgic from our own time of raising our girls.

I adored the moments of chasing the kids around. Of having them babble into your phone. Of playing peek-a-boo. And of that wonderful baby smell only the very young seem to emit.

But it pains me to say that some of my own memories of bringing my girls up has faded to my sub-consciousness.

The nuances that made it such a wonderful time, that connects the timeline of their upbringing, is there, but now comes forward only upon prompting from sight, sound and smell sensory triggers.

And this is much the same for your data.

For you absorb a great deal, as a natural course of business. The perceived value is often unknown, yet it’s collected anyway. And stored in the back of the kitchen drawer. Only called upon during rare occasions when your data scientists’ dust it off for spot initiatives.

It's at points such as these you may pull out the value hidden away in your kitchen draw of data. Value not being used to support business decisions and direction.

Similarly, I didn’t know I was missing so much detail from years gone by until a 13-month-old landed in my care.

Given how tired I was when he left I’m liable to forget all over again, but this needn’t be the same for you and your data.

And where my memories are reliant on my ability to store and retain, you have the advantage of technology and a support team to aid memory.

What I remember and store is out of my control, but with sound governance and management practices, you can apply logic to what you can recall and use.

It will also serve you well to remember a handful of key points:

• Collect only what you need to align your data strategy with the businesses.
• Store only where it’s accessible. Hint: Excel is not a master data management tool.
• Technology is just an enabler. Seek and hire data minds brighter than your own.
• Find and enlist the support of data advocates across the business. Individuals that champion and support your data initiatives. They should reside outside of your inner circle of data experts.

I’m quite a nostalgic person and I cherish the memories I can recall. This often causes me to grieve those I’ve lost. For memories give our lives substance and meaning.

Likewise, data is a memory imprint that gives your business substance and meaning. And the more you can draw upon this, the richer your connection and engagement with customers.

There's much a 13-month-old can teach us about data - and that includes this:

Not all data is good data.

His final parting gift to us - a memory etched - was of walking into the room to a smell that assaulted my senses, and not in a good way, as it demanded an emergency nappy change. Not a memory I will forget in a hurry.

But perhaps best you don’t let your data stink up the room.

Best, Michael