I was glad to be invited a couple of months ago to a half-day forum about climate change, convened at a friend's house. I didn't know most of the other participants, but I looked forward to getting acquainted, and perhaps finding ways we could join together to do what we could about this issue.
We convened in the large living room, and the two presenters sat on stools at the front of the room, near the large screen TV. They each had a music stand, with a many-page notebook on it. I began to sense I was watching a performance. One of the presenters had a remote control, with which he turned on the TV and cued a program, evidently on a DVD recording.
The video program had high production values--music, narration, etc. After showing a few minutes of the video, the presenter clicked off the program, and talked about the topic, turning the pages on his notebook as he went along. He and his co-presenter took turns reading and talking to us, and showing video segments about the growing problems of climate change, for about two hours. Then it was time for our break.
I was glad for the break. I was feeling pretty depressed about all the problems, and the growing dangers of climate change. And it was a relief to talk with others for a few minutes, instead of just listening passively. The second half of the program was more upbeat. Now we learned about people around the world who are working on ways to deal with the problems of global warming. The format of the session continued as before--mostly presentation of material, supported by video segments. Actually, I realized, we were primarily watching a well-produced video, with each segment being introduced by the presenters. The first half was the bad stuff, and the second half the good. A rational structure.
In this half of the program there were also a few activities. For example, we were invited to speak for five minutes with one or two people seated near us about our own assumptions and beliefs, and to report them out to the presenters and the group. Then we watched more video. Mostly we watched the video. Near the end, we received hand-made bracelets we could wear, signifying our commitment to a sustainable planet. And we got printed forms on which we could give feedback about the program by checking boxes, and writing a brief comment. Then it was over, and we adjourned to another room to enjoy refreshments and informal conversation.
After that I left, realizing I felt disappointed. I had received a lot of information about the growing problems of climate change, and about what many people and organizations are trying to do about it. I realized the material had been organized to convince participants that this is a serious problem, and to provide exemplary information about what they could and should do about it. But I already knew this is a problem. I think other participants did, too. And none of the examples of good programs gave me any sense of what I could do--on my own, or with others in the room. And we never got to talk about that with each other.
What I got from the session was a sense of affirmation--that I'm one of the good people who take this problem seriously, though I already knew that. I learned about some interesting Web sites, for further information. I felt a certain emptiness, though; a sense of disappointment. My brain had been engaged, but not my heart. And I had not connected with others in the group about how we might work together in our own communities to make a meaningful difference, at least locally. What a missed opportunity.
I was glad to learn that there are 108,000 Web sites on the net with material about climate change and sustainability, though I later looked briefly at only one of them. I did wear my bracelet a few times.
I wished we had spent one hour watching video material, and three hours talking with each other about our shared concerns, about our relevant talents and skills, and about how we could develop working relationships among us for taking constructive action in our community.
Why does this happen so often? People who are very intelligent and well educated make this kind of wrong choice--to present information, rather than to create meaningful interactive experiences. Our society seems to have a shared, unexamined assumption that problems are caused by a lack of information, and that therefore they can be solved by providing that information to people in a rational, well-produced program, with a logical structure.
Some of this probably comes from our early experience in school and college, where the emphasis has been on transmitting information from teacher to student, more than on supporting the learning process--the natural, genuine interest we have as human beings to learn about our world and to become relevant to it. Teaching methods have begun to change, at least at the edges, toward participative, interactive learning. But we have generations of people who grew up in the information-based paradigm (ok; I used the P word) whose orientation is still to transmit content, rather than to create a learning process.
The information overload we received as students only made us feel overwhelmed and stupid, but the teachers seemed so powerful and confident. So we go into meetings armed with PowerPoint presentations, with 72 slides and 12 bullet points on each one. We no longer expect real change from this information transmittal, but at least we feel more confident in the knowledge that we compiled all the data and presented it in a way that seemed professional.
We already have too much information. What gives me hope for improvement and motivates me to change my behavior is not information, but a sense of engagement, along with people I feel connected to. Not information, but interaction.
So I'm inviting your interaction about these questions. I hope you'll click on Comments and participate in this shared learning.
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4 comments:
>>I wished we had spent one hour watching video material, and three hours talking...
I feel this way so often about presentations. Somehow, it is harder for people to create the potentially more chaotic space for talking and active "audience" participation in groups -- maybe because the presenters would have to not know what was going to happen.
Your post inspires me to create some events for conversation, as I do seem to thrive on that sort of chaos!
Saul,
Your post on Information or Interaction hit close to home for me.
I received a very traditional education, where "talking at" the student was the norm. It wasn't until 2003, when I went back to university to complete my BA degree, that I experienced interactive education. I enrolled in the Hutchins Liberal Studies Program at SSU and took part in seminar-based, cohort learning. It opened my eyes to an entirely diffent way of communicating and learning. The professors did not talk at us, but rather engaged with us to question, disagree, and ponder all sorts of issues and to then connect our conversations with what was going on in our own personal lives, with our families and communities.
Fortunately, my cohort and interactive learning experience continued on through my graduate studies. I don't have a lot of patience these days with sitting through a lecture, passively listening, with no opportunity to converse with other participants and somehow relating the topic back into my world.
I take for granted and assume these days that any progressive talk I attend will be interactive. I think it is wishful thinking because I am continually disapointed. One thing I can do is model what I want to see. Your blog, Saul, provides a place to discuss our highest wants and to take action ourselves. Thank you for sharing your thoughts with us.
Beck Kageyama
I love this assumption. The irony is that the last time I used this process, a vocal handful of participants expressed their frustration that I did not just present the data, give my conclusions and recommendations, and call for a vote. Even though we clearly set the process and mutually agreed on it. Any suggestions?
I like Rosana's phrase, "thriving on chaos." I agree that the dominant assumption about presenters and audiences leads us to expect this form in any serious group meeting. It also implies that controlled, one-way communication is most effective. Research in the social psychology of groups and in management has demonstrated the opposite: two-way communication (interaction) leads to higher quality solutions and to their actual implementation.
But yes, the interactive form seems more chaotic--out of control. For people who are not used to it, or who think it's ineffective, it's hard to trust it. And interaction is not always effective. It takes a different set of skills and awareness on the part of participants to make it work well--skills most people don't get a chance to develop. But with some experience one can develop the ability to trust the apparent disorder, and to make it work for the group--so that we can thrive on the chaos.
Beck tells us about her successful training and experience with interactive learning and group work. Excellent learning environments such as the Hutchins program and the Organization Development program at Sonoma State University demonstrate the power of learning and the productivity of groups using the interactive form.
The awareness and skill that you have developed in different ways, Rosana and Beck, give you a capacity for leadership that can greatly support group productivity and satisfaction. This formal and informal leadership can influence individuals and groups to try the interactive mode, and to discover its great value. Much of this leadership can be informal--like the modeling approach Beck proposes. "Be the change you want to create." And then be sure to name it, talk about it, see where that conversation goes.
And Mary's experience provides useful perspective. Since most people are used to the apparent clarity of the presentation format, some will become fearful of interaction--assuming nothing was accomplished. This is a powerful bias in our culture--a deeply held assumption.
Talking about and agreeing to the interactive format at the start is a healthy practice, but that doesn't prevent some individuals from becoming uncomfortable with interaction. Any change tends to arouse mixed feelings--we like the new way, but when it becomes hard work we miss the simplicity and apparent clarity of the old way.
Working through these feelings--interactively--is very important for the change to be integrated and become established. Letting people know ahead of time that it will be hard in this way can help--so they understand that it's a learning process. So one can contract at the start for a different way of working, and also contract for the change as a learning process that takes work--and some courage. You can also engage it as learning, inquiring into what was difficult for them and why.
Not everyone will like interactive methods. So one must decide whether to do what people like (though it is ineffective) or what works (though it is initially unpopular).
Thrive on the chaos!
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