Posts Tagged ‘Change Management’
In this instalment of my sensemakers series, I chat with Dr. Neil Preston, an Organisational Psychologist based in Perth, about the very topical issue of organizational change. In a wide-ranging conversation, Neil draws interesting connections between myths that are deeply embedded in Western thought and the way we think about and implement change…and also how we could do it so much better.
KA: Hi Neil, thanks for being a guest on my ongoing series of interviews with sensemakers. You and I have corresponded for at least a year now via email, so it’s a real pleasure to finally meet you, albeit virtually. I’d like to kick things off by asking you to say a bit about yourself and your work.
NP: Well, I’m Dr. Neil Preston. I’m an organizational psychologist…what that means is that I’m specially registered in the area of organizational psychology, much like a clinical psychologist. My background professionally is that I originally worked in mental health, as a senior research psychologist. I’ve published 30 to 40 peer-reviewed papers in psychiatry, mental health and psychometrics, so I know my way around empirical psychology. My real love, however, has always been in organizational and industrial psychology, so in 2006 I decided to leave the Health Department of Western Australia and move into full time consulting.
Consulting work has led me mainly into infrastructure projects- these are very large, complex projects where organisations from both the private and public sector have to get together and create alliances in order to get the work done. My job on these projects – as I often put it to people – is to make the Addams Family look like the Brady Bunch [laughter]. The idea is to get different value systems and organizational cultures to align, with the aim of getting to a shared understanding of project goals and a shared commitment to achieving them.
My original approach was very diagnostic – which is the way psychologists are taught their trade – but as problems have become more complex, I’ve had to resort to dialogical (rather than diagnostic) approaches. As you well know, dialogue is more commensurate with complexity than diagnosis, so dialogical approaches are more appropriate for so-called wicked problems. This approach then led me to complex systems theory which in turn led to an area of work that Paul Culmsee, I and yourself are looking into: emergent design practices. (Editor’s note: This refers to a method of problem solving in which solutions are not imposed up front but emerge from dialogue between various stakeholders.)
KA: OK, so could you tell us a bit about the kinds of problems you get called in to tackle?
NP: Very broadly speaking, I’m generally called in when organisations have goals that are incommensurate with each other. For example: a billion dollar road that has to be on time and on budget…but, by the way, the alignment of the road also takes out a nesting site of a Carnaby White Tailed Cockatoo which triggers the environmental biodiversity protection act which in turn triggers issues with local councils and so on.
Complexity in projects often arises from situations like these, where the issue is not just about delivering on time and on budget, but also creating a sustainable habitat and ensuring alignment with local governments etc.
KA: So very broadly, I guess one could say that your work deals with the problems associated with change. The reason I put it in this way is that change is something that most people who work in organisations would have had to deal with – either as executives who initiate the change, managers who are charged with implementing it or employees who are on the receiving end of it. The one thing I’ve noticed through experience –initially as a consultant and then working in big organisations – is that change is formulated and implemented in a very prescriptive way. However, the end results are often less than satisfactory because there are many unintended consequences (loss of morale, drop in productivity etc.) – much like the unintended consequences of large infrastructure projects. I’ve long wondered about this is so: why, after decades of research and experience do we still get it so wrong?
NP: Let me give you an answer from a psychologist’s perspective. There are a couple of sub-disciplines of psychology called depth and archetypal psychology that look at myth. The kind of change management programs that we enact are driven by a (predominantly) Western myth of heroic intervention.
James Hillman, an archetypal psychologist once said that a myth is what is real. This is somewhat contrary to the usual sense in which the word is used because we usually think of a myth as being something that is not real. However, Hillman is right because a myth is really an archetype – an overarching way of seeing the world in a way that we believe to be true. The myth of the hero – the good guy overcoming all adversity to slay the bad guy – is essentially an interventionist one. It is based on the Graeco-Roman notion of the exercise of individual will. Does that make sense so far?
KA: Yeah absolutely. Please go on.
NP: OK, so this myth is dominant in the Western imagination. For example, any movie that a kid might go to see like, say, Star Wars is really about the exercise of the individual will. In much the same way, the paradigm in which your typical change management program operates is very much (individual) action and intervention oriented. Even going back to Homeric times – the Iliad and Odyssey are essentially stories about individuals exercising authority, power…and excellence is another word that crops up often too. The objective of all this of course is to effect dramatic, full-frontal change.
However, there is a problem with this myth, and it is that it assumes that things are not complex. It assumes that simple linear, cause-effect explanations hold – that if you do A then B will happen (if you restructure you will save costs, for example). Such models are convenient because they seem rational on the surface, perhaps because they are easy to understand. However, they overlook the little details that often trip things up. As a result, such change often has unforeseen consequences.
Unfortunately, much of the stuff that comes out of the Big 4 consultancies is based on this myth. The thing to note is that they do it not because it works but because it is in tune with the dominant myth of the Western business world.
KA: What you are saying definitely strikes a chord. What’s strange to me, however, is that there have been people challenging this for quite a while now. You mentioned the predominantly linear approach – A causes B sort of thinking – that change management practitioners tend to adopt. Now, as you well know, systems theorists and cyberneticists have proposed alternate approaches that are more cognizant of the multifaceted nature of change, and they have done so over fifty years ago! What happened to all that? When I read some of the papers, I see that they really speak to the problems we face now, but they seem to have been all but forgotten (Editor’s note: see this post that draws on work by the prominent cyberneticist, Heinz von Foerster, for example). One can’t help but wonder why that is so….
NP: Well that’s because myths are incredibly sticky. We are talking about an ancient myth of the exercise of the individual human will. And, by the way, it’s a very Western thing: I remember once hearing on the radio that the Western notion of the “squeaky wheel getting the grease” has an Eastern counterpart that goes something like, “the loudest goose is first to lose his head.” The point is, the two cultures have a very different way of looking at the world. That myth – the hero myth – is very much brought into the way we tell stories about organisations.
Now, why does that matter? Well, JR Hackman, an organizational psychologist said it quite brilliantly. He called our fixation on the hero myth (in the context of change) the leadership attribution error – he argues that we tend to over-attribute the success of a change process to the salient things that we can see – which is (usually) the leader. As a result we tend to overlook the hidden factors which give rise to the actual performance of the organization. These factors usually relate to the latent conditions present in the organization rather than specific causes like a leader’s actions.
So there are two types of change: planned change and emergent change. Planned change is the way organisations usually think about change. It is a causal view in which certain actions give rise to certain outcomes. But here is the problem: the causal approach focuses primarily on salient features, ignoring all the other things that might be going on.
Now, cybernetics and systems theory do a better job of taking into account features that are hidden. However, as you mentioned, they have not had much uptake. I think the reason for this is that myths are incredibly sticky…that is the best answer I can give.
KA: Hmm that’s interesting…I’d never thought of it that way – the stickiness of myths as blinding us to other viewpoints. Is there something in the nature of human thought or human minds that make us latch on to over-simplified explanations?
NP: Well, there’s this notion of cognitive bias – persistent biases in human perception or judgement (Editors’ Note: also see this post on the role of cognitive bias in project failure). The leadership attribution error is precisely such a bias. I should point out that these biases aren’t necessarily a problem; they just happen to be the way humans think. And there are good evolutionary reasons for the existence of biases: we can’t process every little bit of information that comes to us through our senses, and these biases offer a means to filter out what is unimportant. Unfortunately, sometimes they cause us to overlook what is important. They are heuristics and, like all heuristics, they don’t always work.
So in the case of leadership attribution bias – yes leadership does have an effect, but it is not as much as what people think. In fact, work done by Wageman (who worked with Hackman) shows that what is more important for team performance are the conditions in which the teams work rather than the qualities or abilities of the leader.
KA: From experience I would have to say that rings true: conditions trump causes any day as far as team performance is concerned.
NP: Yeah and there’s a good reason for it; and it is so simple that we often overlook it. Take the example of sending a rocket to the moon. If you set up the right conditions for the rocket – the right amount of fuel, the right load and so forth, then everything that is necessary for the performance of the rocket is already set up. The person who actually steers the rocket is not as critical to the performance as the conditions are. And the conditions are already present when the rocket is in flight.
Similarly, In the case of organizational change, we should not be looking for causes – be it leadership or planned actions or whatever– but the conditions that might give rise to emergent change.
KA: Yeah, but conditions are causes too, aren’t they.
NP: Yes they are, but the point is that they aren’t salient ones – that is, they aren’t immediately obvious. Moreover, and this is the important point: you do not know the exact outcomes of those causes except that they will in general be positive if the conditions are right and negative if they aren’t.
KA: That makes sense. Now I’d like to ask you about a related matter. When dealing with change or anything else, organisations invariably seem to operate at the limits of their capacity. Leaders always talk about “pushing ourselves” or “pushing the envelope” and so on. On the other hand, there’s also a great deal of talk about flexibility and the capacity for change, but we never seem to build this into our organisations. Is there a way one can do this?
NP: Yes, you can actually build in resilience. Organisations generally like to keep their systems and processes tightly coupled – that is, highly dependent on each other. This tends to make them fragile or prone to breakdown. So, one of the things organisations can do to build resilience is to keep systems and processes loosely coupled. (Editor’s note: for example, devolve decision-making authority to the lowest possible level in the organization. This increases flexibility and responsiveness while having the added benefit of reducing management overhead).
Conditions also play a role here. One of the things that organisations like to talk about is innovation. The point is you can’t put in place processes for innovation but you can create conditions that might foster it. You can’t ask people whether they “did their 15 minutes of innovation today” but you can give them the discretionary freedom to do things that have nothing to do with their work…and they just might do something that goes above and beyond their regular jobs. But of course what underpins all this is trust. Without trust you simply cannot build in flexibility or resilience.
KA: This really strikes a chord and let me tell you why. I read Taleb’s book a while ago. As you probably know, the book is about antifragility, which he defines as the ability to benefit from uncertainty rather than just being resilient to it. After I read the book I wrote a post on what an antifragile IT strategy might look like…and in an uncanny resonance with what you just said, I made the claim that trust would be the single important element of the strategy [laughter].
NP: Yeah, and trust is not something you receive as much as you give. So as a psychologist I know why it is so damaging to people. You know, “Et tu Brutus” – Caesar’s famous line – it was the betrayal of trust that was so damaging. Once trust is gone there’s nothing left.
KA: Indeed, I sometimes feel that the key job of a manager is to develop trust-based relationships with his or her peers and subordinates. However, what I see in the workplace is often (though definitely not always) the opposite: people simply do not trust their managers because managers are quick to pass the blame down (or even across) the hierarchy rather than absorbing it…which arguably, and ethically, is their job. They should be taking the heat so that people can get on with actual work. Unfortunately managers who do this are not as common as they should be.
NP: We’re getting into a complex area here, and it is one that I deal with at length in my masterclass on collaborative maturity and leadership. This is the old scapegoating mechanism at work, and it is related to the leadership attribution error and the hero myth. If the attribution is back to the individual, then the blame must also be attributable to an individual. In fact, I have this slide in one of my presentations that goes, “a scapegoat is almost as useful as the solution to a problem.” [laughter]
Now, there are two questions here. “The scapegoat” is the answer to the question “Who is responsible?” However, it is more important to look at conditions rather than causes, so the real question is, “How did this situation come about?” When you look at “Who” questions, you are immediately going into questions of character. It elicits responses like “Yeah, it’s Kailash’s fault because he is that kind of a guy…he is an INTP or whatever.” What’s happening here is that the problem is explained away because it is attributed to Kailash’s character. You see what is going on…and why it is so dangerous?
KA: Yeah, that’s really interesting.
NP: And you see, then they’ll say something like, “…so let’s take Kailash out and put Neil in”…but the point is that if the conditions remain the same, Neil will fall down the same hole.
KA: It’s interesting the way you tie both things back to the individual – the individual as hero and the individual as scapegoat.
NP: Yes, it’s two sides of the same coin. Followership acquiesces to leadership: Kailash will follow Neil, say, to the Promised Land. If we get there, Neil gets the credit but if we don’t, he gets the blame.
KA: Very interesting, but this brings up another question. Managers and leaders might turn around and say, “It’s all very well to criticize the way we operate, but the fact is that it is impossible to involve all stakeholders in determining, say, a strategy. So in a sense, we are forced to take on the role of “heroes,” as you put it.”
So my question is: are there some ways in which org are some of the ways in which organisations can address the difficulties associated with of collective decision-making?
NP: Of course, it is often impossible to include all stakeholders in a decision-making process, particularly around matters such as organisational strategy. What you have to do first is figure out who needs to be involved so that all interests are fairly represented. Second, I’m attracted to the whole idea of divergent (open-ended) and convergent (decisive) thinking. For example, if a problem is wicked or complex, there is no point attempting to use expert knowledge or analysis exclusively (Editor’s note: because no single expert holds the answers and there isn’t enough information for a sensible, unbiased analysis). Instead, one has to use collective intelligence or the wisdom of the crowd by seeking opinions from all groups of stakeholders who have a stake in the problem. This is divergent thinking.
However, there comes a time when one has to “make an incision in reality” – i.e. stop consultation and make the best possible decision based on data and ethics. – one has to use both IQ and EQ. This is the convergent side of the coin.
Another problem is that one often has the data one needs to make the right decision, but the decision does not get made for reasons of ideology. Then it becomes a question of power rather than collective intelligence: a solution is imposed rather than allowed to emerge.
KA: Well that happens often enough – this “short-circuiting” of the decision-making process by those in positions of power.
NP: Yes, and it is why I think deliberative decision-making which comes from the Western notion of deliberative democracy – i.e. decision-making based on dialogue and consultation is the best way forward but it can be a challenge to implement. Democracy is slow, but it is generally more accurate…
KA: Yes, that’s true, but it can also meander.
NP: Sure, everything is bound by certain limitations (like time) and that’s why you have to know when to intervene. One of the important things for a leader to have in this connection is negative capability – which is not “negative” in the usual sense of the word, but rather the ability to know how to be comfortable with ambiguity and be able to intervene in ambiguous situations in a way that gets some kind of useful outcome.
Of course, acting in such situations also means that one has to have good feedback mechanisms in place; one must know how things are actually working on the ground so that one can take corrective actions if needed. But, in the end, the success of this way of working depends critically on having the right conditions in place. If you don’t set up the right conditions, any intervention can have catastrophic consequences.
If I may talk politically for a minute – the current situation in the Middle East is a classic example of a planned intervention: direct, frontal, dramatic, causal, linear and supposedly rational. However, if the right conditions are not in place, such interventions can have unforeseen consequences that completely overshadow the alleged benefits. And that is exactly what we have seen.
In general I would say that emergent change is more likely to succeed than large-scale, direct, planned change. The example one hears all the time is that of continuous improvement – where small changes are put in place and then adjusted based on feedback on how they are working.
KA: This is a matter of some frustration for me: in general people will agree that collaboration and collective decision-making are good, but when the time comes, they revert to their old, top-down ways of working.
NP: Yes, well when I go into a consulting engagement on collaborative maturity, one of the first things I ask people is whether they want to use the collaborative process to inform people or to influence them. Often I find that they only want to use it to inform people. There is a big difference between the two: influencing is emergent, informing isn’t.
KA: This begs a question: say you walk into an organization where people say that they want to use collaborative processes to influence rather than inform, but you see that the culture is all wrong and it isn’t going to work. Do you actually tell them, “hey, this is not going to work in your organization?”
NP: Well if people don’t feel safe to speak their truth then it isn’t going to work. That’s why I’m so interested in Hackman’s work on conditions over causes. Coming to your question I don’t necessarily tell people that it’s not going to work because I believe it is more productive to invite them to explore the implications of doing things in a certain way. That way, they get to see for themselves how some of the things they are doing might actually be improved. One doesn’t preach but one hands things back to them.
In psychology there are these terms, transference and countertransference. In this context transference would be where a consultant thinks, “I’m a consultant so I’m going to assume a consultant persona by acting and behaving like I have all the answers”, and countertransference would be where the client reinforces this by saying something like, “you are the expert and you have all the answers.” Handing back stops this transference-countertransference cycle. So what we do is to get people to explore the consequences of their actions and thus see things that might have been hidden from their view. It is not to say “I told you so,” but rather “what are the implications of going down this path.” The idea is to appeal to the ethical or good side in human beings…and I believe that human beings are fundamentally good rather than not.
KA: I like your use of the word “ethical” here. I think that is really important and is what is often missing. One hears a lot about ethics in business these days, but it is most often taught and talked about in a very superficial way. The reality, however, is that the resolution of most wicked problems involves ethical considerations rather than logic and rationality…and this is something that many people do not understand. It isn’t about doing things right, rather it is about doing the right things.
NP: Yes, and this is related to what I call “meaning over motivation” – the idea being is that instead of attempting to motivate people to do something, try providing them with meaning. When you do this you will often find that change comes for free. And it is worth noting that meaning has both an emotional and rational component – or, put a little bit differently, an ethical and logical one. In one of his books, Daniel Pink makes the point that uncoupling ethics from profit can have catastrophic consequences…and we have good examples of that in recent history.
The broad lesson here is that if the conditions aren’t right then it is inevitable that unethical behavior will dominate.
KA: Yeah well human nature will ensure that won’t it?
NP: [laughs] Yeah, and you don’t need a psychologist to tell you that.
KA: [laughs] Indeed…and I think that would be a good note on which to bring this conversation to a close. Neil, thanks so much for your time and insights. It’s been a pleasure to chat with you and I look forward to catching up with you again…hopefully in person, in the not too distant future.
NP: Yeah, Singapore and Perth are not that far apart…
Management consultants and gurus emphasise the need for organisations to adapt to an ever-changing environment. Although this advice is generally sound, change initiatives continue to falter, stumble and even fail outright. There are many reasons for this. One is that the unintended consequences of change may overshadow its anticipated benefits, a point that gurus/consultants are careful to hide when selling their trademarked change formulas. Another is that a proposed change may be ill-conceived (though it must be admitted that this often becomes clear only after a change has been implemented). That said, many changes initiatives that are well thought through still end up failing. In this post I discuss one of the main reasons why this happens and what one can do to address it.
Let’s begin with a two dimensional grid as in Figure 1, with time on the horizontal axis and the state of the organisation along vertical axis (before going any further I should also mention that this model is grossly simplified – among other things it assumes that the state of the organisation can be defined by a single variable). We can represent the current state of a hypothetical organisation by the point marked as the “Initial state” in Figure 1.
Now imagine that the powers that be have decided that the organisation needs to change. Further, let’s imagine (…and this is hard) that they have good advisors who know what the organisation should look like after the change. This tells us the position of the final state along the vertical axis.
To plot the final state of the organisation on our grid we also need to fix its position along the horizontal (time) dimension- that is, we need to know by when the change will be implemented. The powers that be are so delighted by the consultants’ advice that they want the changes to be rolled out asap (sound familiar?). Plucking a deadline out of thin air, they decree it must be done by within a certain fixed (short!) period of time.
The end state of the organisation is thus represented by the point marked as the final state in Figure 1.
Let’s now consider some of the paths that by which the organisation can get from initial to the final state. Figure 2 shows some possible change paths – a concave curve (top), a straight line (middle) and a convex curve (bottom).
Insofar as this discussion is concerned, the important difference between these three curves is that each them describes a different “rate of change of change.” This is a rather clumsy and confusing term because the word change is used in two different senses. To simplify matters and avoid confusion, I will henceforth refer to it as the velocity of organisational change or simply, the velocity of change. The important point to note is that the velocity of change at any point along a change path is given by the steepness of the curve at that point.
Now for the paths shown in Figure 2:
- The concave path describes a situation in which the velocity of change is greatest at the start and then decreases as time goes on (i.e. the path is steepest at the start and then flattens out)
- The straight line path describes a situation in which the velocity of change is constant (i.e. the steepness is constant)
- The convex path describes a situation in which the velocity of change is smallest at the start and then increases with time. (i.e. the path starts out flat and then becomes steeper as the end state is approached)
To keep things simple I’ll assume that the change in our fictitious organisation happens at a constant velocity – i.e it can be described by the straight line. This is an oversimplification, of course, but not one that materially affects the conclusion.
What is clear is that by mandating the end date, the powers be have committed the organisation to a particular velocity of change. The key question is whether the required velocity is achievable and, more important, sustainable over the entire period in which the change is to be implemented.
An achievable and sustainable change velocity
Figuring out an achievable and sustainable velocity of change is no easy matter. It requires a deep understanding of how the organisation works at a detailed level. This knowledge is held by key people who work at the coalface of the organisation, and it is only by identifying and talking to them that management can get a good understanding of how long their proposed changes may take to implement and thus the actual path (i.e. curve) from the initial to the final state. Problem is, this is rarely done.
The foregoing discussion suggests a rather obvious way to address the issue –reduce the velocity of change or, to put it in simple terms, slow the pace of change. There are two benefits that come from doing this:
- First, the obvious one – a slower pace means that it is less likely that people will be overwhelmed by the work involved in making the change happen.
- The organisation can make changes incrementally, observe its effects and decide on next steps based on actual observations rather than wishful thinking.
- The organisation has enough time to absorb and digest the changes before the next instalment comes through. Implementing changes too fast will only result in organisational indigestion.
Problem is, the only way to do this is to allow a longer time for the change to be implemented (see Figure 3). The longer the time allotted, the lower the velocity of change (or steepness) and the more likely it is that the velocity will be achievable and sustainable.
Of course, there is nothing radical or new about this, It is intuitively obvious that the more time one allows for a change to be implemented, the more likely it is to be successful. Proponents of iterative and incremental change have been saying this for years – Barbara Czarniawska’s wonderful book, A Theory of Organizing, for example.
Many well-intentioned organisational change initiatives fail because they are implemented in too short a time. When changes are implemented are too fast, there is no time to reflect on what’s happening and/or fix problems. The way to avoid this is clear: slow down. As in a real journey, this will give you time to appreciate the scenery and, more important, you’ll be better placed to deal with unforeseen events and hazards.
It is a truism that organisations are in a constant state of change. It seems that those who run organisations are rarely satisfied with the status quo, and their unending quest to improve products, performance, sales or whatever makes change an inescapable fact of organizational life.
Many decision makers and managers who implement change take a somewhat naïve view of the process: they focus on what they want rather than all the things that could happen. This is understandable because change projects are initiated and plans made when all the nitty-gritty details that may cause problems are not yet in view. Given that it is impossible to surface all significant details at the start. is there anything that decision-makers and managers can do to address the inevitable ambiguity of change?
One of the underappreciated facets of organizational change is that it is inherently paradoxical. For example, although it is well known that such changes inevitably have unintended consequences that are harmful, most organisations continue to implement change initiatives in a manner that assumes complete controllability with the certainty of achieving solely beneficial outcomes.
It is my contention that an understanding of the paradoxes that operate in the day-to-day work of change might help managers in developing a more realistic picture of how a change initiative might unfold and some of the problems that they might encounter. In this post, I look at the paradoxes of organizational change drawing on a paper entitled, The social construction of organizational change paradoxes.
Paradoxes are social constructs
More often than not, the success of an organizational change hinges on the willingness of people to change their attitudes, behaviour and work practices. In view of this it is no surprise that many of the difficulties of organizational change have social origins.
Change makes conflicting demands on people: for example, managerial rhetoric about the need to improve efficiency is often accompanied by actions that actually decrease it. As a result, many of the obstacles to change arise from elements that seem sensible when considered individually, but are conflicting and contradictory when taken together. This results in paradox. As the authors of the paper state:
We propose that paradox is constructed when elements of our thoughts, actions and emotions that seemed logical when considered in isolation, are juxtaposed, appearing mutually exclusive. The result is often an experience of absurdity or paralysis.
Again it is important to note that change-related paradoxes have social origins – they are caused by the actions of certain individual or groups and their effects or perceived effects on others.
Paradoxes of organizational change
The authors describe three paradoxes of organizational change: paradoxes of performing, belonging and organizing. I describe each of these below, but before I do so, it is worth noting that paradoxes are often exacerbated by people’s reactions to them. In particular, those affected by a change tend to interpret it using frames of reference that accentuate negative effects. For example, employees may view a change initiative as a threat rather than an opportunity to improve performance. Paradoxically, their perceptions may become a self-fulfilling reality because their (negative) reactions to the change may reinforce its undesirable effects.
That said let’s look at the three paradoxes of organizational change as described in the paper.
Paradoxes of performing
A change initiative is invariably accompanied by restructuring that results in wholesale changes in roles and responsibilities across the organisation. Moreover, since large-scale changes take a long time to implement, there is a longish transition period in which employees are required to perform tasks and activities associated with their old and new roles. During this period, employees may have to deal with competing, even conflicting demands. This, quite naturally, causes stress and anxiety.
Paradoxes of performing relate to contradictions in employees’ self understanding of their identities and roles within the organisation. As such, these paradoxes are characterized by mixed messages from management. As the authors state, people faced with such paradoxes often express feelings of rising frustration with/distrust of management, doubt (inability to choose) or nihilism (futility of choice). This paradox isparticularly common when organisations transition from a traditional (functional) management hierarchy to a matrix structure.
Paradoxes of belonging
Another consequence of organizational restructuring is that old hierarchies and workgroups are replaced by new ones. Adjusting to this requires employees to shift allegiances and develop new work relationships. Leaving the safety of a known group can be extremely stressful. Moreover, since the new structures are rarely defined in detail, at least at the start, there is a great deal of ambiguity as to what it really stands for. It is no surprise, therefore, that some employees attempt to maintain the status quo or even leave while others benefit from the change.
At the heart of this paradox is a double bind where a desire to maintain existing relationships competes with the realization that it is necessary to develop new ones. People react to this differently, depending on their values, motivations and (above all) their ability to deal with ambiguity. Inevitably, such situations are characterized by antagonistic attitudes that accentuate differences and/or peoples’ defensive attitudes that provoke defensiveness in others.
Paradoxes of organizing
The fact that organisations consist of people who have diverse backgrounds, motivations and interests suggests that the process of organizing – which, among things, involves drawing distinctions between groups of people based on their skills – is inherently paradoxical. The authors quote a couple of studies that support this contention. One study described how, “friendly banter in meetings and formal documentation [promoted] front-stage harmony, while more intimate conversations and unit meetings [intensified] backstage conflict.” Another spoke of a situation in which, “…change efforts aimed at increasing employee participation [can highlight] conflicting practices of empowerment and control. In particular, the rhetoric of participation may contradict engrained organizational practices such as limited access to information and hierarchical authority for decision making…”
As illustrated by the two examples quoted in the prior paragraph, a manifestation of a paradox of organizing is that the (new) groups created through the process of organizing can accentuate differences that would not otherwise have mattered. These differences can undermine the new structures and hence, the process of organizing itself.
As the authors suggest, paradoxes of organizing are an inevitable side effects of the process of organizing. The best (and perhaps the only) solution lies in learning to live with ambiguity.
In the end, the paradoxes discussed above arise because change evokes feelings of fear, uncertainty and doubt within individuals and groups. When such emotions dominate, it is natural that people will not be entirely open with each other and may do things that undermine the aims of the change, often even unconsciously.
An awareness of the paradoxes of organizing may tempt one to look for solutions. For example, one might think that they might be resolved by “better communication” or “more clarity regarding expectations and roles.” This is exactly what professional “Change Managers” have (supposedly) been doing for years. Yet these paradoxes remain, which suggests that they are natural consequences of change that cannot be “managed away”; those who must undergo the process of change must also suffer the angst and anxiety that comes with it. If this is so, the advice offered by the authors in the final lines of the paper is perhaps apposite. Quoting from Mihalyi Czikszentmihalyi’s book Finding Flow, they state:
Act always as if the future of the universe depended on what you did, while laughing at yourself for thinking that whatever you do makes any difference . . . It is this serious playfulness, this combination of concern and humility, that makes it possible to be both engaged and carefree at the same time.
…and that is perhaps the best advice I have heard in a long time.
Change, as the cliché goes, is the only constant. At any given time, most organisations are either planning or implementing changes of some kind. Perhaps because of its ubiquity, the rationale and results of change are not questioned as deeply as they ought to be. In this post I describe some unintended effects of organisational change, drawing on Barbara Czarniawska’s book, A Theory of Organizing and other sources. I also briefly discuss some ways in which these side effects can be avoided.
I’ll begin with a few words about terminology. In this article planned changes (also referred to as reforms) are changes instituted in order to achieve specific goals. The goals of reforms are referred to as planned effects – that is, planned effects are intended results of change. As I discuss below, although planned effects may eventually be achieved, change initiatives have a host of unforeseen but significant consequences. These are referred to as unplanned, unintended or side effects.
This article is organised as follows: I’ll begin by describing some of the positive and negative side effects of change, following which I’ll discuss why side effects come about and how they can be managed.
Advantageous side effects of change
Although, the term side effect has a negative connotation, some side effects of change can actually be advantageous. These include:
- Questioning of the status quo: In most organisations, processes and structures are taken for granted, rarely is the status quo questioned. Organisational change presents an opportunity to pose those “How can we do this better?” type questions that challenge the way things are done. Such questioning is unplanned in that it generally occurs spontaneously.
- Opportunities for reflection: This is a consequence of the previous point: questioning the status quo can cause people to reflect on how things can be done better. Again, this is an unintended consequence of a reform, not part of its planned goals. Also, it should be noted that although opportunities for reflection arise often, they are generally ignored because of time pressures.
- Spontaneous inventions: Finally, questioning of and reflecting on the status quo can trigger ideas for improvement.
Most people would agree that the above points are indeed Good Things that ought to be encouraged. However, the important point is that people who are in the throes of a planned change seldom have the time or motivation to pursue these opportunities.
Harmful side effects of change
The negative side effects of planned changes are insidious because they tend to occur as a result of inaction – i.e. by not taking corrective actions to counter the detrimental effects of change. The following side effects serve to illustrate this point:
- The aims of reform become cast in stone: The objectives of a change initiative are formulated based on an understanding of a situation as it exists at a particular point in time. Problem is, as time evolves the original objectives maybecome irrelevant or obsolete. Yet, in many (most?) change initiatives, objectives are rarely reviewed and adjusted.
- The means get confused with the ends: Following from the previous point, a change initiative becomes pointless when its objectives are no longer relevant. However, a common reaction in such situations is to continue the initiative, justifying it as a worthwhile end in itself. For example, if the benefits of, say, a restructuring initiative become moot, the restructuring itself becomes the objective rather than the benefits that were supposed to flow from it. This helps save face as the project can be declared a success once the restructuring is completed, regardless of whether or not the promised benefits are realised.
- Improvisations and spontaneous inventions are suppressed: As I have discussed at length in this post, planning and improvisation are complementary but contradictory aspects of organizational work. A negative aspect of planned change initiatives is that they are inimical to improvisations: those responsible for overseeing the change tend to ignore, even suppress any improvisations that arise because they are seen as getting in the way of achieving the objectives of the primary change.
Planned change initiatives are generally implemented through programs or projects. In fact, most major projects in organisations – restructurings, enterprise system implementations etc – are aimed at implementing reforms of some kind. However, although the raison d’etre of such projects is to achieve the planned objectives, many suffer from the negative side effects mentioned above. In her book Czarniawska states, “Planned change rarely, if ever, leads to planned effects.” Although this claim may be a tad exaggerated, the significant proportion of large projects that fail suggests there is at least a whiff of truth about it.
In the next two sections I take a brief look at why planned changes fail and what can be done about it.
The origin of the side effects of change
Most structures and processes within organisations have a complex, path-dependent history. Among other things, they develop in ways that are unique to an organisation and are often deeply intertwined with each other. As a result, it is impossible to be certain about the consequences of changing processes or structures – there are just too many variables and dependencies involved.
There are two related points that flow from this:
Firstly, those who plan changes need to have a good understanding of legacy: the history of the issues that the change aims to fix and those that it may create in the future. The problem is most of the people involved in planning, initiating and executing reforms have little appreciation of such issues.
Secondly, most major changes are conceived by a small number of people who hold positions of authority within organisations. These folks have a tendency to gloss over complexities, and often fail to involve those who have a detailed knowledge of the affected processes and structures. Consequently, their plans overlook dependencies and possible knock-on effects that can arise from them. This results in the negative side effects discussed in the previous section.
..and what can be done about them
Czarniawska recommends the following informal rules for successful change:
- Be willing to modify the objectives of the change and your path to get there as your understanding of it evolves.
- Implement lightweight processes, avoid bureaucratic procedures.
- Be open to improvisations.
This is good advice as it goes, but how exactly does one use it?
In our recently published book, The Heretic’s Guide to Best Practices, Paul Culmsee and I discuss how issues of legacy and lack of inclusiveness can be addressed.
Firstly, we suggest that apart from time, cost and scope (the classic iron triangle), project decision-makers would be well served by considering legacy as a separate variable in projects (also see this post on Paul’s blog for more on this point). More importantly, we describe techniques that can be used to surface hidden assumptions and aspects of history that could have a bearing on the project and those that might cause problems in the future.
Secondly, we discuss how one can work towards creating an environment in which a diverse group of stakeholders can air and reconcile their viewpoints. Such a discussion is a prerequisite to creating a plan that: a) considers as many viewpoints (variables) as possible and b) has the support of all stakeholders. Without this, any implementation is bound to have side-effects because of overlooked variables and/or the actions (or non-actions) of stakeholders who do not support the plan.
Of course, inclusiveness sounds great but it can be difficult in practice, especially in large organisations. What can decision-makers do in such cases? The answer comes from a slightly different, if rather obvious direction.
In his very illuminating book on decision-making, James March notes that organisations face messy and inconsistent environments. Given this, decisions made and implemented at lower levels have a better chance of success than those made in rarefied air of board-rooms. Paraphrasing a statement from his book:
Since knowledge of local conditions and specialized competencies are both essential and more readily found in decentralized units, control over the details of policy implementation and adaptation of general policies to local conditions are [best] delegated to local units. From the standpoint of general management, the strategy is usually seen as one of gaining the informational and motivational advantages of using people with local involvement, [but] at the cost of accentuating problems of central coordination and control.
Indeed, most of the nasty side effects of planned change arise from over-centralisation of coordination and control. The solution is to devolve control and decision-making authority down to the level at which the changes are to be implemented.
Planned change fails to achieve its goals because planners cannot foresee all the consequences of change or even know which factors may be important in determining these. Moreover, individuals will view changes through the lens of their background, biases and interests. Since organisations consist of many individuals with different views, managing change is essentially a wicked problem.
To sum up, those who initiate large-scale changes should keep in mind the law of unintended consequences: any planned action will have consequences that are not intended, or even foreseen. These consequences can be managed by getting a better appreciation of the factors that affect the processes and the structures to be changed. One can gain an understanding of these factors through a consideration of legacy and/or via dialogue involving all those who work with the processes and structures that are to be changed. The simplest way to achieve both is by delegating decision making and implementation authority down to where it belongs – with the people who work at the coalface of the organisation.
Over the last few weeks, it has been raining quite a bit in Sydney. Last weekend I took advantage of a break in the rain and went bushwalking in the Lane Cove National Park with a friend. The park lies along the Lane Cove River – a picturesque little waterway that runs through suburban Sydney. The track we walked along was a bit slippery from the rain of the previous weeks but was drying out nicely in the morning sun.
One of the consequences of sunny weather after a long spell of rain is that reptiles tend to seek open spaces to soak in some sun. With dense vegetation on either side, the open, rocky areas on the track were inviting spots for reptiles looking to sunbathe. I thought we might see snake or two but we didn’t. Instead we walked into a number of Eastern Water Dragons, semi-aquatic lizards that are common in eastern Australia (see Figure 1). Incidentally, fully-grown water dragons are a pretty impressive sight, growing up to a metre in length. They are also quite well camouflaged, black stripes over a grey-brown coat that merges nicely with the rock-and-mud colours of the track.
When a water dragon sunbathes, it stays still, rock-like, for long periods of time. This makes sense from a safety perspective: motion might attract the attention of predators (mainly omnivorous native birds such as Currawongs and Kookaburras). So the reptile remains statue-like, perfectly camouflaged by colours that merge with the ground it lies on…until a blundering bushwalker disturbs its repose, like we did many times (to many lizards) last weekend. At that point the creature has two options: to freeze (maintain the status quo) or to flee (turn tail and scuttle off).
The water dragon senses approaching bushwalkers by the disturbance caused by their footfalls along the trail, further amplified by the crackling of leaves and brush that come underfoot. To the water dragon, the approaching footfalls signify an unknown: it could be benign but could also be a predator on the prowl. It is safest to assume the latter because if the lizard chooses the former wrongly it could end up dead. However, even if it is a predator, it is quite possible that the lizards’s superb camouflage will do its job and render it unnoticeable. (Besides, it is comfortable out there in the sun, so there’s an understandable reluctance to move.) Consequently, the first reaction of the lizard is to continue its statue-like stance, but remain alert to the danger. As the footsteps get closer it reassesses the situation continually, deciding whether to run for it or stay put. At some point, a threshold is reached and the lizard dashes off into the undergrowth (or a stream, if there’s one handy – water dragons are good swimmers).
Now, if there were no blundering bushwalker, the dragon would presumably continue basking in the sun undisturbed. The bushwalker changes the lizard’s environment and the lizard reacts to this change in one of the two ways it knows – it stays put (does nothing) or runs (takes evasive action). Both actions are aimed at self-preservation – we can take it as given that the lizard does not want to be a lizard-eater’s lunch! The first action has the benefit of not expending energy unnecessarily, but could lead to an unpleasant end. The second is a better guarantor of safety but involves some effort. There is a tradeoff: not becoming lunch involves understanding that there is no such thing as a free lunch.
The interesting thing is that the threshold seems to vary from dragon to dragon. When I used the phrase “walking into” earlier in this piece, I meant it quite literally: many times we didn’t notice a recumbent reptile until we were almost upon it. At other times, though, a startled slinker would speed off when we were several metres away. It seems some water dragons scare easily while others don’t. In either case, the lizard makes an assessment of the situation based on the information gleaned through its senses and then decides on a course of action.
These musings got me thinking about workplace change and our reactions to it. Although such changes are rarely life threatening, they can be unsettling. I thought it interesting that the most typical reactions to workplace change are much like those of a water dragon to approaching footsteps. Many (most?) people is to attempt to maintain the status quo and failing that, they quit for (supposedly) greener pastures. This is a perfectly normal reaction considering our evolutionary heritage – most creatures (be they water dragons or humans) prefer the familiar and will do what they can to avoid change. It is no surprise, then, that our first reactions to changes forced upon us is to:
- Pretend they haven’t occurred or
- Run away from them.
The implications for management are the following: since the above is pretty much a guaranteed first reaction from those affected, change management initiatives need to address it upfront. This isn’t the same as the “what’s in it for me” (or WIIFM) factor – it is more basic than that – it is the loss of the familiar world. What is needed is reassurance that the changes are benign – or even better, beneficial – to those affected. On the other hand, if there are going to be negative consequences, then it is best to state – early in the process – that people’s work conditions (or employment) are under threat. In this case folks know exactly what’s coming and can make their own plans to deal with it. Unfortunately, this kind of honesty is rare – organisations seem to prefer to keep their employees stumbling around in a fog of uncertainty.
The implication for employees is much more straightforward. There is a key difference between humans and water dragons: we can think before we act, water dragons can’t. Consequently, we have a third option available to us, one that involves neither freezing nor fleeing – it is to face up to changes and adapt to them.