To think, to be, to act

It would have been sometime in late 2013. I was in the midst of exploring the possibility of setting up an analytics development centre for a large, somewhat conservative organization. The location of the centre had yet to be determined, but it was clear it would be a continent and a world away from headquarters.

A senior IT executive from headquarters was visiting our subsidiary. I knew him quite well and we had a good working relationship. He frowned as he caught sight of me across our big open plan area and gestured that he wanted to talk.

Uh oh.

I nodded and walked over to a vacant meeting room on my side.  He followed shortly and closed the door behind him.

Brief pleasantries done, he got to the point. “What’s this I hear about a development centre? What the hell are you up to?”

–x–

Despite out best-laid plans, the lives of our projects and the projects of our lives tend to hinge on minor events that we have little control over. Robert Chia stresses this point in his book Strategy without Design:

“Ambitious strategic plans, the ‘big picture’ approach that seeks a lasting solution or competitive advantage through large-scale transformations, often end up undermining their own potential effectiveness because they overlook the fine details of everyday happenings at ‘ground zero’ level.“

At one level we know this, yet we act out a large part of our personal and work lives as though this were not so.

–x–

In business (and life!) we are exhorted to think before doing. My boss tells me I need to think about my team’s workplan for next year; my wife tells me I need to think about the future. Thinking is at the center of our strategies, blueprints, plans – the things that supposedly propel our lives into an imagined future.  

In brief, we are exhorted to make detailed plans of what we are going to do; we are encouraged not to act without thinking.

As Descartes famously wrote, cogito ergo sum, our thinking establishes our being.

But is that really so?

–x–

Gregory Bateson noted the following in his book, Angels Fear:

“There is a discrepancy of logical type between “think” and “be”. Descartes is trying to jump from the frying pan of thought, ideas, images, opinions, arguments etc., into the fire of existence and action. But that jump itself is unmapped. Between two such contrasting universes there can be no “ergo” – no totally self-evident link. There is no looking before leaping from “cogito” to “sum”.“

The gap between our plans and reality is analogous to the gap between thought and action. There is ample advice on how to think but very little on how to act in difficult situations.

As Bateson wrote elsewhere:

“What is lacking is a theory of action within large complex systems, where the active agent is himself a part and a product of the system.“

He then goes on to say that Kant’s categorical imperative – “act so to treat humanity, whether in your own person or in another, always as an end and never as only a means – might provide a starting point for such a theory.”

So far, so unsurprising.

But in the very next line, Bateson says something truly intriguing:

“It seems also that great teachers and therapists avoid all direct attempts to influence the action of others and, instead, try to provide the settings or contexts in which some (usually imperfectly specified) change may occur.“

This line resonated deeply when I read it first because it spelt out something that I had learnt through experience but had not found the words to articulate.

–x–

In contentious discussions, it is difficult to change minds using facts and figures alone. Indeed, the current reluctance to be vaccinated against Covid is a case in point (see this article, for example).What one needs in such situations is to reframe the terms of the discussion. In the Covid case that might be to focus on relative risks in terms that people can understand rather than absolute numbers of people who have suffered serious side-effects of the vaccine.

In general, reframing is about changing the way in which people perceive the problematic issue.  The best way to describe how it works is via an example. Here’s one from Paul Watzlawick’s classic book on change: 

A police officer with a special ability for resolving sticky situations in unusual ways, often involving a disarming use of humour, was in the process of issuing a citation for a minor traffic violation when a hostile crowd began to gather around him. By the time he had given the offender his ticket, the mood of the crowd was ugly and the sergeant was not certain that he would be able to get back to the relative safety of his patrol car. It then occurred to him to announce in a loud voice: “You have just witnessed the issuance of a traffic ticket by a member of your Oakland Police Department” And while the bystanders were busy trying to fathom the deeper meaning of this all too obvious communique, he got into his cruiser and drove off.

The specifics of what one might do depends on the situation, but the general idea is to appreciate the situation from the viewpoint of the other party and act in a way that helps shift that perspective in an indirect or oblique manner.

This is one of the key principles of emergent design – and more about that in a forthcoming piece.

–x–

Back to the story I started with:

I realized instinctively that much hinged on what I said and – more importantly – how I said. My interlocutor was clearly upset, and I had to ensure that my words did not infuriate him further. He had the power to stop my fledgling project in its tracks with a word or two in the right ears.

“There is no plan to set up a development centre,” I said, looking him in the eye. “All we have done is hire a couple of people here to help with the workload at headquarters.”

“Who has requested help?”

I told him who. He knew that person well and thought highly of him.

“Where do you plan to go from here?” he demanded.

“Like I said, there is no plan. This is just a pilot to see if we can help improve productivity. The idea is to free people in headquarters so that they can focus on the strategic stuff.”

“Just make sure it doesn’t turn into something bigger.”

“Absolutely,” I responded, mustering what I hoped was a reassuring smile.

“OK,” he nodded and walked out. 

I breathed easier; he seemed to be OK with it for now. But even if not, the conversation was still open. More importantly, I had bought myself some time to pay greater attention to the politics of the project over the coming weeks.

–x–

It was only in retrospect that I realized that the interaction described here was pivotal to the success of the project. How so is a story to be told later. For now, the point I wish to make is that the projects of our lives can be planned down to great detail, but their outcomes are often determined by the unplanned micro-actions we take while doing them.

–x–x–

(no identity – courtesy HaPe Gera https://www.flickr.com/photos/hape_gera/2929195528)