You stare at the square peg, holding it next to your round hole and pursing your lips. You make a few futile efforts at mashing the peg into the hole, to no avail. Cursing the peg for its square-ness and never considering why it is square in the first place, you pull out a knife and begin to whittle away at the peg. After several hours, a small amount of blood and a large amount of sweat you hold the peg up to the light. Perfect. You insert the peg slowly into the hole, and … NOOOOOOOOOOOOO…
There are a few situations where the blood and sweat invested in the previous process are entirely justified. If, for instance, you lived in a world where there were only square pegs, and every hole was required by pain of death to be created round.
You see, initially, you had a tool. That tool helped you with a particular process. Now you’ve got a new, modern tool. But instead of letting the modern tool help you transition to a modern process, you insist on attempting to force the modern tool to work within the context of your antiquated process.
So before you spend the next week customizing your shiny new tool, stop, and consider the underlying process you’re codifying into eternal law. You might just find that you can’t really remember why that hole is square in the first place.