Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Is it Resistance or Incubation? The Exponential Shape of Change

I was talking with a good friend today about her struggle to initiate positive changes in the organization she works in. She described the tendency of most people there to avoid talking about certain crucial subjects. This is not unusual--most organizations have certain "unspeakable" topics. There is a tacit agreement to not talk about the elephant in the room, or the emperor's transparent new clothes.

I was reminded of a novelty toy years ago that looked like a black metal box with a little red lever along the top front edge. If one pushed the lever, the box would start whirring and the lid on top would slowly open. A little metallic hand would come out of the box, moving toward the lever. It would push the lever back to "off" and then dart back into the box, the lid snapping shut behind it. I realized this is a metaphor for many organizations, whose unacknowledged culture cancels out any initiatives for improvement, because people think they're not supposed to go that way, or talk about it.

This pattern of automatic self-stopping can discourage managers and consultants from implementing improvements. Their constructive initiatives are non-verbally spurned, and they come to the conclusion that there is great "resistance to change." I think this is a misunderstanding of the way human systems change. While there are some events that result in apparently quick and transformative change, such as a change in the top leadership, or major disruptive changes in technology, most real change has the shape of an exponential curve, or a hockey stick. Nothing seems to be happening for a long while, then suddenly it becomes apparent that there has been slow quiet development over a period of time, and big changes begin to emerge spontaneously. The caterpillar in the cocoon has been invisibly transforming, and it emerges as a butterfly.
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For change agents, patience and perseverance is a wise strategy. Years ago, I was invited to Herb Shepard's house, which he called "Fort Courage," to celebrate his 60th birthday, along with many fellow alumni of the Case-Western Reserve U. doctoral program in OD. I was excited to see fellow alumni from many cohorts talking with great animation in small clusters, sitting at couches or standing around, holding drinks. My thought was, what an amazing repository of knowledge and experience about OD practice was assembled in the room! I imagined that soon, Herb would convene us, and the socializing would give way to serious exploration and discussion among the group as a whole. But after some time, that shift did not happen, and people just continued to chat, mill around in small clusters, and drink. Nobody was convening the conversation.

Finally, losing patience, I walked over to Herb and asked him, "Don't you think it would be good for us all to sit down and talk as a whole group about what we're doing and learning?" His response was a classic Herb Shepard intervention: He looked me in the eye and said, "So what are you going to do about it?"

I gulped quietly as I got the message. So I started to circulate from cluster to cluster, non-verbally and then verbally joining each conversation, and then asking, "Don't you think it would be good for us all to talk together about what we're doing and what we're learning?" They would usually agree, and then go on with what they were talking about with their two or three friends. I would shrug and go on to another group, etc. My initiative was not catching on. I kept going, though, until I got to the last group, standing in the kitchen, talking with great animation and energy about whatever. I began to do my routine of non-verbally joining the group and conversation, waiting for the first opening to speak my proposal. But this was a group of very experienced, first-cohort alumni. They were implicitly aware I was up to something and did not want to be interrupted. They were non-verbally keeping me out of the group.

I was feeling greatly discouraged. My change initiative had failed. At that moment, someone came in from the living room and said loudly, "Hey! We're all sitting down together to talk about what we're doing and learning! Come into the living room!" And we did.

What stories can you tell here about your own change initiatives?

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