Before going on to Assumption 3, it can be useful to consider how the first two assumptions are sometimes connected. When we are in an environment of stable growth there is a sense of predictability and security. In that kind of context, we tend to use our intellect more easily. And the measured, considered exploration we typically exhibit under these conditions tends to support stability, and controlled growth.
This is the paradigm of philosophical inquiry and scientific experimentation. People in this environment tend to take it for granted, and expect it to continue. They assume stability and continuity.
In different circumstances, a disruptive event takes people by surprise, and generates newly focused attention; but the stress often engages the ancient physiological mechanisms for fighting or fleeing. Adrenaline and cortisol flood the body and the brain, and plentiful glucose becomes available to muscles and tissues. Responses are quicker, but more instinctual, reacting to each threatening event. The mind is much less reflective and discerning, responding to the immediate present much more than the possible future. Often these responses tend to add energy to the crisis, and make matter worse.
So this is the paradigm of emotional reactivity. We are seeing a lot more of this in news broadcasts, for example, partly because our world is becoming more tumultuous, and also because media executives have discovered that crisis commands much more attention from viewers than does thoughtful, reflective news analysis.
Major disasters are tragic, but they increase viewer ratings. So does reporting of war events, sports contests, and election campaigning by candidates. Reporters' questions tend to elicit adversarial and controversial views much more than reflective exploration of issues, policies, and plans. And viewers cooperate by letting themselves be drawn to such reporting, and forming increasingly polarized though superficial views and commitments. We are addicted to adrenaline, and it is rotting our brains and our society, at a time when pressing social and environmental issues require thoughtful, well-considered planning and social policy.
As our world moves toward the possibility of serious, even catastrophic crises in climate change, energy depletion, and water and food shortages, the tendency to experience the adrenaline madness of crisis response and polarization may increase, instead of what we'll need the most--calm focused analysis, shared reflection and dialogue on a large scale, leading to enlightened social policy, government leadership, and civic engagement at all levels.
By the time lemmings realize they are running toward a cliff edge, the crowd behind them is pushing them inexorably forward, enthusiastically, madly, driven by the shared passion for progress toward something important in front of them, just out of sight, and hoping to get there before the others while there is some of that left. Are there any lemmings near the back, wondering what the fuss is all about, and considering other options?
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Sunday, March 23, 2008
Assumption 2. Rationality or Unconscious Reactiveness
As human beings, we are the undisputed champions of intelligence among living beings on the planet. We know this because we have come to that conclusion ourselves, through reasonable thought and deliberation. The ravens, dolphins, and sequoia trees do not dispute the point with us. We're so smart we can teach some animals tricks, and we can construct machines that display awesome computational abilities.
We're even smart enough to understand that under certain circumstances we can behave in pretty stupid ways. Well, we can easily detect stupid behavior in other people, who of course, should (or actually do) know better. But what makes people act so stupid sometimes?
Anyone who has read Scott Adams' Dilbert comic strip and recognized his/her own work environment knows that stupid behavior is rampant and common in organizations--and many other places. But let's be clear: the real and very common spectacle is not just stupid people acting stupid, but smart people acting stupid.
What appears to an ambitious manager as his/her smart new directive to organize the production of software into a more efficient (-looking) structure is understood by the software engineers who are actually doing the coding as one more requirement to break the work up into smaller pieces, making the work more controllable by the manager, but less productive by the coding team.
Or consider the new VP of Administration who mounts a strategic planning project. Input is widely invited from all levels of the organization in order to increase their buy-in to the preconceived new priorities. No one is fooled by this exercise, though plenty of initially naïve and hopeful participants are frustrated and disenchanted. The exercise, intended as a career-enhancing move by the VP, turns out to be a trust-destroying experience for all concerned.
Managers are certainly not the only ones prone to this pattern, but their behavior is a rich source of examples. In each case there was a "rational" and often well-articulated intent. The software manager wanted to improve the organization of the coding process. The VP of Administration wanted to provide clear strategic direction for the organization. In both cases, their efforts had the opposite results.
One of the many ways in which rational behavior is undermined by unconscious reactiveness is the unacknowledged goal of looking good or feeling good about oneself in a situation that is really out of control. The assumption is that the role of manager requires one to know more than those one manages, be better at thinking than them, and help them to improve--or at least to control their behavior.
This is a losing proposition, for all concerned. It makes managers' work much harder--impossible, really. And their behavior, dressed in the garb of rationality, covers the ragged underwear of unacknowledged emotional reactiveness. Instead of real leadership toward individual and organizational excellence, it creates a Dilbert environment of cynicism, covert struggle, and organizational decline.
For those seeking to understand and avoid these pitfalls, it's useful first to acknowledge they exist. We all (yes, even I) experience layers of intention, awareness, and emotion along with our logical analysis. It is, after all, what makes us human. When we are ashamed of our humanity in this sense, we give up its genius; we paint ourselves into the corner of "rationality" without humility or wisdom.
But we can, instead, choose to accept our own and each other's full humanity, beauty marks and all, and reconnect with our own full capacities to think, experience, learn, and collaborate with each other toward our shared goals. It takes practice to change our habits of mind and heart in this way. But it's a good and useful practice.
We're even smart enough to understand that under certain circumstances we can behave in pretty stupid ways. Well, we can easily detect stupid behavior in other people, who of course, should (or actually do) know better. But what makes people act so stupid sometimes?
Anyone who has read Scott Adams' Dilbert comic strip and recognized his/her own work environment knows that stupid behavior is rampant and common in organizations--and many other places. But let's be clear: the real and very common spectacle is not just stupid people acting stupid, but smart people acting stupid.
What appears to an ambitious manager as his/her smart new directive to organize the production of software into a more efficient (-looking) structure is understood by the software engineers who are actually doing the coding as one more requirement to break the work up into smaller pieces, making the work more controllable by the manager, but less productive by the coding team.
Or consider the new VP of Administration who mounts a strategic planning project. Input is widely invited from all levels of the organization in order to increase their buy-in to the preconceived new priorities. No one is fooled by this exercise, though plenty of initially naïve and hopeful participants are frustrated and disenchanted. The exercise, intended as a career-enhancing move by the VP, turns out to be a trust-destroying experience for all concerned.
Managers are certainly not the only ones prone to this pattern, but their behavior is a rich source of examples. In each case there was a "rational" and often well-articulated intent. The software manager wanted to improve the organization of the coding process. The VP of Administration wanted to provide clear strategic direction for the organization. In both cases, their efforts had the opposite results.
One of the many ways in which rational behavior is undermined by unconscious reactiveness is the unacknowledged goal of looking good or feeling good about oneself in a situation that is really out of control. The assumption is that the role of manager requires one to know more than those one manages, be better at thinking than them, and help them to improve--or at least to control their behavior.
This is a losing proposition, for all concerned. It makes managers' work much harder--impossible, really. And their behavior, dressed in the garb of rationality, covers the ragged underwear of unacknowledged emotional reactiveness. Instead of real leadership toward individual and organizational excellence, it creates a Dilbert environment of cynicism, covert struggle, and organizational decline.
For those seeking to understand and avoid these pitfalls, it's useful first to acknowledge they exist. We all (yes, even I) experience layers of intention, awareness, and emotion along with our logical analysis. It is, after all, what makes us human. When we are ashamed of our humanity in this sense, we give up its genius; we paint ourselves into the corner of "rationality" without humility or wisdom.
But we can, instead, choose to accept our own and each other's full humanity, beauty marks and all, and reconnect with our own full capacities to think, experience, learn, and collaborate with each other toward our shared goals. It takes practice to change our habits of mind and heart in this way. But it's a good and useful practice.
Thursday, March 13, 2008
Assumption 1. Stable Growth, or Discontinuous Change
We make assumptions all the time in order to deal with day-to-day activities, interactions, and tasks. They can be right, or they can be wrong. We could try to check them all before proceeding, which would be prudent, it seems, but how can we possibly do that? We wouldn't get anything done!
"Our company has been holding its market share for several years, and we have great customer loyalty. We can continue using the manufacturing and marketing methods that have worked so well in the past, and concentrate on developing new products that will serve our customers."
This is the assumption of stability over time. What was true yesterday is mostly true today, and will probably also be true tomorrow. Change does happen, but it happens slowly and regularly.
It takes me 35 minutes to commute to the office. I've learned this from experience over the years. If I leave the house 40 minutes before I need to be there, I'll be on time for my appointments there. But recently I've begun to notice that going through the center of town tends to get me behind a traffic jam, not just on Fridays around noon, or during rush hours, but almost any time of day. I can't count on that 35 minute commute any more. There are just more people living and working in this town, and there are more cars on the road.
What was true yesterday will not necessarily be true today, or tomorrow. Things change. Usually gradually, like a candle burning down; other times suddenly, unexpectedly, like a draft blowing out the flame.
In December, 2005, Wired magazine published and article about how the rising price of gasoline could actually be beneficial, by making it economically feasible to develop alternative energy technologies that are initially more expensive than current ones. The three scenarios the author considered involved the price of crude oil at $20-30 a barrel, $30-70 a barrel, and $70 and up per barrel. Today's price, at over $110 a barrel, was at top of the range of reasonable expectations just three years ago.
Widely shared assumptions are useful in some ways. They provide coherence for discourse and action. They can also become problematic blind spots for a community, an organization, or a society.
So one type of shared assumption is about stability: "How things are is how they will continue to be." A similar assumption is about stable change, or growth: "Prices of stocks are increasing about 6% per year, except for short-term market volatility." The long-term growth rate itself seems stable.
A different assumption about change, however, is more ominous, and important: "Some things may suddenly change in unexpected and irrevocable ways." For example, by the time we get clear as a global community of human beings that carbon dioxide and similar gases have set in motion catastrophic planetary climate changes, including liquefied ice caps, widespread coastal flooding, destructive storms and droughts, and damaged food chains, it may be too late to generate the corrective action needed (as individuals, organizations, and governments) to head off those climate changes. And under those stressful conditions, organizational innovation and international cooperation may become even more difficult.
So this is not assuming stability, nor predictable growth any more; it's considering the possibility of discontinuous, relatively sudden, irreversible change. By the time we discover that our earlier assumptions were wrong, it's very hard to make use of that new understanding.
Maybe it's not too late, but there is probably not much time left to shift our human social behavior appropriately. What's encouraging is that a lot of people and organizations are thinking about climate change, and communicating about it. One actually senses the beginning of a tipping-point shift in awareness and collaborative action on a planetary scale.
I click the link on my computer and gaze at the picture of my newborn grandson. I wonder about the world this boy will grow up in. And I wonder if you see that picture, too, or if what you see is a page-full of random numbers. So this note is to check with you about my assumptions. Do you see what I see?
"Our company has been holding its market share for several years, and we have great customer loyalty. We can continue using the manufacturing and marketing methods that have worked so well in the past, and concentrate on developing new products that will serve our customers."
This is the assumption of stability over time. What was true yesterday is mostly true today, and will probably also be true tomorrow. Change does happen, but it happens slowly and regularly.
It takes me 35 minutes to commute to the office. I've learned this from experience over the years. If I leave the house 40 minutes before I need to be there, I'll be on time for my appointments there. But recently I've begun to notice that going through the center of town tends to get me behind a traffic jam, not just on Fridays around noon, or during rush hours, but almost any time of day. I can't count on that 35 minute commute any more. There are just more people living and working in this town, and there are more cars on the road.
What was true yesterday will not necessarily be true today, or tomorrow. Things change. Usually gradually, like a candle burning down; other times suddenly, unexpectedly, like a draft blowing out the flame.
In December, 2005, Wired magazine published and article about how the rising price of gasoline could actually be beneficial, by making it economically feasible to develop alternative energy technologies that are initially more expensive than current ones. The three scenarios the author considered involved the price of crude oil at $20-30 a barrel, $30-70 a barrel, and $70 and up per barrel. Today's price, at over $110 a barrel, was at top of the range of reasonable expectations just three years ago.
Widely shared assumptions are useful in some ways. They provide coherence for discourse and action. They can also become problematic blind spots for a community, an organization, or a society.
So one type of shared assumption is about stability: "How things are is how they will continue to be." A similar assumption is about stable change, or growth: "Prices of stocks are increasing about 6% per year, except for short-term market volatility." The long-term growth rate itself seems stable.
A different assumption about change, however, is more ominous, and important: "Some things may suddenly change in unexpected and irrevocable ways." For example, by the time we get clear as a global community of human beings that carbon dioxide and similar gases have set in motion catastrophic planetary climate changes, including liquefied ice caps, widespread coastal flooding, destructive storms and droughts, and damaged food chains, it may be too late to generate the corrective action needed (as individuals, organizations, and governments) to head off those climate changes. And under those stressful conditions, organizational innovation and international cooperation may become even more difficult.
So this is not assuming stability, nor predictable growth any more; it's considering the possibility of discontinuous, relatively sudden, irreversible change. By the time we discover that our earlier assumptions were wrong, it's very hard to make use of that new understanding.
Maybe it's not too late, but there is probably not much time left to shift our human social behavior appropriately. What's encouraging is that a lot of people and organizations are thinking about climate change, and communicating about it. One actually senses the beginning of a tipping-point shift in awareness and collaborative action on a planetary scale.
I click the link on my computer and gaze at the picture of my newborn grandson. I wonder about the world this boy will grow up in. And I wonder if you see that picture, too, or if what you see is a page-full of random numbers. So this note is to check with you about my assumptions. Do you see what I see?
Sunday, March 9, 2008
Nine Assumptions and Ten Realities--Introduction
I'm thinking about nine generic assumptions most people make, and ten alternative perspectives that may be a better guide to navigating reality. I want to start by considering the place of assumptions in our lives first, because they've gotten a bad rep. "Don't make assumptions," people say. But how can we not? And, really why shouldn't we? It's only those assumptions we don't realize are unfounded that get us in trouble, and only sometimes. And when we discover they're not correct, we learn, and improve our judgment.
Our daughter gave birth to a son a month ago. "She sent us pictures of the baby," I told my wife. "I forwarded her note to you." A few minutes later, she said, "Help! I don't get how to view the pictures!"
"You just click on the link in her note," I said. "It's not working," she said. "Come show me." (I've learned that whenever I tell her to "just" do something, it turns out to not be as simple as I thought.)
So I went over to my wife's iBook and clicked on the link in the email note I had forwarded to her. Instead of a group of very cute baby pictures, it opened Safari on a page with wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling random numbers. "Oh;" I thought. It doesn't work on her computer as it does on mine. She has an older operating system, and uses a different browser.
"Well, come look at them on my computer," I said, and she did.
The phenomenology of computers is that they each can interpret and display the same information in very different ways. What I get on mine is not necessarily what you get on yours. But we tend to assume otherwise. "Just click on the link!"
So discovering this unfounded assumption is useful to me. I now know that some things will look the same for each of us, and some things won't. Web designers know all about this, of course, and regularly test their marvelous new pages on several browsers before finalizing their design and giving it to the client.
The assumption used to be, "What I see is what you get." Now it's "What you see may not be what I meant; I'd better check."
Our daughter gave birth to a son a month ago. "She sent us pictures of the baby," I told my wife. "I forwarded her note to you." A few minutes later, she said, "Help! I don't get how to view the pictures!"
"You just click on the link in her note," I said. "It's not working," she said. "Come show me." (I've learned that whenever I tell her to "just" do something, it turns out to not be as simple as I thought.)
So I went over to my wife's iBook and clicked on the link in the email note I had forwarded to her. Instead of a group of very cute baby pictures, it opened Safari on a page with wall-to-wall, floor-to-ceiling random numbers. "Oh;" I thought. It doesn't work on her computer as it does on mine. She has an older operating system, and uses a different browser.
"Well, come look at them on my computer," I said, and she did.
The phenomenology of computers is that they each can interpret and display the same information in very different ways. What I get on mine is not necessarily what you get on yours. But we tend to assume otherwise. "Just click on the link!"
So discovering this unfounded assumption is useful to me. I now know that some things will look the same for each of us, and some things won't. Web designers know all about this, of course, and regularly test their marvelous new pages on several browsers before finalizing their design and giving it to the client.
The assumption used to be, "What I see is what you get." Now it's "What you see may not be what I meant; I'd better check."
Friday, March 7, 2008
What Dreams We Awaken To
What if this world became more humane, and our inter-connectedness became more clear--more manageable, constructive, mutually supportive?
What do you yearn for in the pressing possibilities of tasks and interactions? What is the Job this world is offering you? In the quiet moments of your mind, what do you know is true?
What is this blog about? What blog do you imagine helping to create? You're invited to imagine and suggest.
What do you yearn for in the pressing possibilities of tasks and interactions? What is the Job this world is offering you? In the quiet moments of your mind, what do you know is true?
What is this blog about? What blog do you imagine helping to create? You're invited to imagine and suggest.
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