Assumption 7: Information or Interaction

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.

Assumption 6: Coercion or Community

This one has been tough to write about. For one thing, coercion--and one’s urge to use it--evokes such dark emotions. I was just watching a documentary about the beginnings of the Inquisition in a small village in France. Because the Church was losing its power and centrality among the people, there were initiatives to identify townspeople who were participating in "heretical practices." After many depositions and hearings, five people were burned at the stake. During the next two centuries, many more were persecuted, tortured, and killed.

This was not the beginning, nor the end of coercion. It goes all the way back to our pre-human and early human experience. Struggles for power and dominance were settled by force or the threat of force. Social stability depended on the dominance by some individuals or groups, and the submissive acceptance of it by others. The hierarchy was created and maintained by some form of violence.

In our modern and post-modern world, we have progressed beyond all that. We are civilized, aren't we? Well, yes, we are, but others aren't, so we must attack them, overwhelm them with our superior power, and liberate them from their coercive social structures. And they will be so grateful! Or if not, then they deserve the misery. This is how we solve problems; not every problem, but the really important ones.

We begin learning how to do this, and how to think this way, through parental guidance. A good spanking, for the child's own good, has marvelous results: Compliance. Most of the time. While they're at home. If not, kids get a time out in their room, or when they're older, they get grounded for a week. In school, the education continues: "corporal punishment" is no longer used very much, but misbehavior results in detention. It's excellent training for the post-graduation or post-drop-out life: If you don't comply, you go to prison. We put you away; some would say we throw you away.

How comfortable to have put that last description in those terms. Let me make a small shift: If we don't comply, they throw us away.

Does that change your feelings about this?

In organizations the same pattern exists, though it's applied more subtly, yet no less intensely. Managers expect compliance from their direct reports. If they don't get it, performance reviews won't be good. No pay increases or advancement. If my people get really stupid about it, they're out of here. We've got a business to run. But sometimes managers have priorities that conflict with those of their own peers. It's OK; that's why we invented the hierarchy: we also have managers who resolve differences among us. They have greater power, and what they say goes. We don't always like what they do, but we prefer this arrangement to just fighting with our peers. Don't we?

We live in a culture of coercion. We subscribe to and support the assumption that coercive behavior is needed to maintain order--in our families, in our organizations, in our countries, and in our world. And many of us hold a further, underlying assumption that this is the only choice, and the alternative would be chaos.

There is some evidence, however, for an alternative assumption: that instead of coercion we can acknowledge our community of shared interests. We can re-connect with those we have disowned and made into "others," and engage with them in a different form of interaction, based on mutual respect as human beings, supported by our own self-respect as human beings. We can vulnerably communicate our own interests, concerns and aspirations. We can invite others to do the same with us. And we can frame this interaction in the context of our super-ordinate goal: building mutually satisfying relationships and working arrangements--ones that work well for all concerned.

This is a good definition of community. It's available for use in our families, in our schools, in our work organizations, and in our governments. The family systems work of Virginia Satir, for example, has been eminently successful in building healthy families that are not based on coercion. Some schools have been quietly operating this way, and some organizations have had great business success with this different approach. More courts are diverting divorce proceedings to mediation, and some are starting to use the approach of restorative justice--bringing together those who created damage with those who were harmed, along with their families, and supporting their coming to terms with each other about how to repair those damages.

It's hard work, especially while we unlearn old ways and learn new ones. Most people have less experience with community than they do with coercion/compliance. So the needed attitudes and skills for community are not as widely held. But they are learnable. They are effective. And they are much more satisfying for the human spirit and ultimately for the global society.

Assumption 5: Abundance or Ecological Limits

Building on Assumption 4, and the reality of abundance and creativity in many realms in our shared lives, we need to consider the other side of the coin. In so many ways, we human beings have grown up experiencing areas of abundance that we take for granted. As a child, I knew without thinking about it that one could spit (or whatever) in the pool and the great volume of water would so dissolve it as to make it of no consequence to fellow swimmers, or even to me. An empty soft drink bottle could be tossed in the trash and it would disappear forever. I could drink tap water, or turn on the lawn sprinklers, and if I forgot to turn them off it was OK; water was clean and free. No one worried about it. One could read the newspaper every day, and then throw it away. It was trash.

In movies or on the TV, one sometimes saw clips of people in India bathing in the Ganges, or depositing the ashes of a newly cremated and consecrated corpse into the river. I wondered how close one was to the other, but the people there did not seem concerned. The Ganges flows endlessly, and all is carried away.

One seldom thought much about breathing, even when a relative's tobacco smoke involved us in the involuntary practice of sharing the smoke. The occasional bout of asthma was ascribed to allergies or childhood stress, and most people pretty much grew out of it eventually. If not, there were medicines available form the magical cornucopia that opened for us at the doctor's office.

Gasoline was never cheap at whatever age or time or country as one pulled up to the pump and filled up. Well, it was not free, and one needed to come up with gas money one way or the other, but it was seldom a big issue. One very seldom thought, "Oh, I can't take that trip; it's too expensive to buy the gas for it." As teens we often chipped in for gas money for whoever was driving us to the all-night party. But no one said, "I can't go, I don't have money for the gas." It was only slightly more expensive than tap water, which flowed endlessly and so reliably we never gave it a thought.

And new homes were built in tracts, by the hundreds--plenty of space for them, out on the edge of town, on those orange orchards that were purchased and converted to more useful (and lucrative) purposes. Rivers were dammed and diverted to provide the drinking water and lawn sprinkling that was required by the good life.

Agriculture, too, was a booming business. Labor-saving machinery extended and accelerated the human capability for tilling and harvesting, and the wonders of chemistry provided effective pesticides for protecting the crop. The government, too, made sure agriculture and petroleum extraction thrived, by providing subsidies out of tax revenues, so there was plenty of food, and gasoline.

Abundance--unquestioned, endless availability. Economic growth was good for everyone and supported by all. Progress is good, and it gets its proponents elected.

Fast-forward to the present: In riots protesting rising food prices in several countries in West Africa recently, several demonstrators were shot. In Australia, the protracted drought has severely reduced the harvest of foods. In some countries, farmers are starting to carry guns to protect the food on their fields from robbers.

The demand for foodstuffs has been increasing dramatically in high-population countries like India and China. The price of wheat and rice has recently increased dramatically. So many people have been buying up grains before the price goes up that stores like Costco are now limiting the number of sacks of rice one can buy. Oxfam America is warning of severe food shortages and the need to rescue people all over the world from hunger.

Are you sweating yet?

But don't worry; we are dealing with these problems. Or are we? We are certainly making progress on similar crisis issues like energy and climate-change. There is significant public support for reducing our petroleum dependence by using corn to produce ethanol. We can grow our own fuels, no? There are only a few problems with this quick fix: Ethanol production from corn uses more net energy and pumps more carbon dioxide into the atmosphere than petroleum-based fuel. And the diversion of corn from food uses to fuel uses is increasing its price, and the price of other grains, on the world market. So we have a perfect, though tragic, example of a problem (food shortages) that is caused by a solution (switch to ethanol).

The cascading consequences that currently include food riots remind us of Assumption 2: People will come up with rational solutions that work. Under conditions of emerging crisis and stress, this becomes Reality 2: Unconscious Reactiveness, which ends up making things worse, and feeds the crisis conditions. This is a bad vicious circle.

In 1972, Donella Meadows and others published The Limits to Growth, which was variously welcomed, criticized or dismissed by various experts. It explored the possible interdependence among global variables such as: world population, industrialization, pollution, food production and resource depletion. The authors suggested the possibility of a sustainable interaction pattern that could be achieved by altering growth trends among the five variables.

More than 35 years later, this kind of analysis is being given serious consideration by some. The possibility of moving toward an acknowledgment of ecological limits, and a collaborative, intentional self-control on a global scale provides a glimmer of hope for life on the planet.

Assumption 4: Scarcity or Abundance, version 2

Most people have grandparents who lived through the Great Depression of the 30s in the US. Those were hard times. There was no work, stocks became worthless, and banks were useless. Everybody was broke. People lined up at soup lines. After the economy finally recovered, especially after World War II, those people who had lived through the Depression still worried about losing their jobs, losing their money, losing their security.

Many carried the expectation of scarcity within them; they saved their money, and were careful about expenditures. It was the next generation who drove the post-war economic boom years, in the 50s and 60s. Two generations were in the same economy, but their perceptions and behavior were different--the first was oriented to scarcity, the second to abundance. Many folks in the Depression generation were so scared--or scarred--from that experience that they continued to be frugal and to worry about their expenditures for the rest of their lives.

I was a grad student at UCLA during the Kennedy administration when the US military discovered Soviet ballistic missiles in Cuba. The President gave the Soviets an ultimatum: get the missiles out, or expect a nuclear attack from the US. Everybody I knew was extremely concerned about what was going to happen. One of the most tangible behaviors I became aware of was that people hoarded food. Shelves on supermarkets were nearly bare. One couldn't find bags of sugar or other staples anywhere. Everyone expected a military catastrophe, which would create scarcity, so they hoarded basic foods, and created what everyone feared: scarcity.

It was also during the 60s that the hippy generation began exploring new ways of perceiving the world, and new ways of traveling through it. The limits of perception and awareness were pushed back through music, psychedelics, and communal living. This social exploration and creative innovation floated on the exuberance of a growing economy. The context of abundance encouraged a turn toward relaxed social strictures and an abhorrence of conflict. Make love, not war.

Today, as the price of food and the fuel to transport it are increasing, there is a growing experience of scarcity again. The world is running out of oil. Solar and wind energy are not yet online, and nuclear energy comes with the one troubling problem: there's no good way to throw out or store the deadly nuclear waste.

What we do have is a growing abundance of human beings on the planet. We do all need to eat, drink, stay warm or cool as needed, and get from here to there using mostly petroleum-based transportation. And together we're pumping more and more carbon dioxide and methane into the atmosphere, changing our world's climate and melting our polar ice caps. We're accelerating down a road that leads to a brick wall.

But more and more of us are paying attention to this emerging problem, and are using our individual and social creativity to find ways to deal with it and to put those solutions in place. The Web site for Wiser Earth lists links to 108,647 organizations that are currently working toward the interdependent goals of social justice and ecological wellbeing. We are tapping into what is most abundant in the world--human creativity and good will toward fellow human beings and toward all living beings on the planet.

As we do, we are discovering an emerging global consciousness, beyond our collective individual consciousness; one that has the abundant energy, creativity, and commitment to bring back sanity to our world and to maintain the one life-boat we're all in--or as Buckminster Fuller called it, our Spaceship Earth.

Assumption 3: Competition or Collaboration

Any sports fan knows that there is nothing like competition to bring out the best in an athlete or a team. In the heat of the struggle, participants' performance surges beyond their own expectations. Spectators, too, become very involved in the experience and often believe that their enthusiastic cheers are crucial to the athletes' triumph. A true fan won't think about seeing the game later on tape or broadcast playback; they must cheer their team while the struggle is on, so they can help.

In business organizations, market share is a key measure of success. Apple may have a single-digit share of the PC market, but it's increasing, and users of Macs, iPods and iPhones are proud to be part of that struggle. Similarly, brand loyalty is actively encouraged in cosmetics, athletic shoes, automobiles, and credit cards. It's us versus them, and we're better.

Sometimes, though, the competitive spirit emerges inappropriately and counter-productively. Executives in charge of different product divisions within a company vie for investment capital to develop or promote their own product. The allocation may favor the most enthusiastic and compelling advocate, but in the end the over-all company profits may suffer.

We understand this well in the context of a basketball team: the flashy player may make more baskets than the others, but the team as a whole may lose the game. Our team is competing with their team, but if we compete within the team, we lose the game. So we need to cooperate within the team in order to compete successfully with the other team.

Athletic teams and businesses competing for market share are in a win-lose environment. Mathematicians who work with this call this a zero-sum game. One and minus one equals zero. If they lose, we win. But there is another type of game structure, which they refer to in less elegant terms: The non-zero sum game. If we both work together in an appropriate and relevant way, we can both win.

Our pre-historical ancestors knew that they must compete with other predators in order to eat. They also learned that they could work together and get a big prize--coordinate their spears and bring down the mastodon. The knowledge of both strategies--competition and cooperation--is carried deeply within our instinctual psyche and shared culture.

But the experience of each is very different. Competition is adrenaline-based and exciting. Cooperation is deliberative and interdependent. It requires more patience, tolerance for frustration, and awareness of the big picture.

In a role-play activity I have used, two teams are instructed to discuss whose company will get the chance to buy a special crop of Valencia oranges, until they reach a decision. If they don't reach a decision within a prescribed time, neither team will get the crop, and it will be sold elsewhere. Most groups bog down in heated debate, growing more polarized, guarded, and narrow. Eventually, some teams disclose enough about their "private" instructions to discover that one company needs the oranges to make a highly prized juice for market. The other company needs the oranges for their excellent zest, which they will use in a gourmet baking formula.

Their understanding of the game they're involved in thus magically shifts from win-lose to win-win. The newly-discovered option emerges as if by magic--beyond their preconceived assumptions. What enables that shift is an attitude of curiosity and openness, courageous self-disclosure about your own interest, and respectful inquiry about the other's. The creative conclusion then becomes easy and self-evident.

Yes, some situations really are zero-sum games. But many are not, unless we assume they are. Our expectations, themselves, can create antagonism and polarization. Win-lose behavior then often leads to lose-lose outcomes. But if we pay attention, invite collaborative inquiry, and generate inclusive options, we are able to discover the amazing truth: we can all win.

The Connection Between Assumptions 1 and 2

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?

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.