I am thoroughly enjoying the podcasts of Alan Watts’ talks at the archive of alanwatts.com. Today, on the bus into Vancouver I listened to part four of “Seeing Through the Net” in which Watts talks about trust and control.
The essence of his argument is this: in Judeo-Christian societies, humans are said to be born with sin, and are therefore inherently untrustworthy; to be precise, humans are unable to rely on their own judgements to make good decisions and decisions for the good. And so the way to deal with a population of largely untrustworthy neer-do-wells is to create an eleborate system of controls in society to ensure that behaviour is managed and the chaos doesn’t get too overwhelming.
In contrast, Watts says, many societies, including traditional Chinese society and, I would argue, many First Nations societies see humans as essentially good and capable and trustworthy. If you can view humans like this, then you can see a room full of people as a roome full of potential, and an organization of people is one essentially capable of doing good in the world. All you have to do is trust these inherent capacities.
This control issue crops up everywhere. If humans are essentially untrustworthy then we need laws to keep the peace and agendas to keep them on topic. We need rules, regulations, measurements, standards and assessment and evaluation criteria that judge the largely untrustworthy human against the perfect ideal, in order to see how badly they failed to achieve perfection.
The kicker for me in listening to Watts comes when he says that the problem with this logic is that if you believe that humans are inherently untrustworthy, then you cannot possibly trust your own thoughts about that. It takes you into a strange loop that is inescapable. On the other hand if you begin with the assumption that humans are good and can be trusted, you can trust that assumption and engage others in your work and adventures.
It seems to me that this is a critical part of the infrastructure that underlies how we choose to be together in organizations and communities. If we can trust each other, then we can trust that any sticky place we come too will be resolved by the people we are with. If we can’t trust each other, then we can’t trust ourselves first of all, and the world becomes a sad place full of controls and statistics and punishment and devoid of the life and creativity and passion that we see in places where people are truly alive.
I try to work with people who believe in people and who trust them to find their way. It just sank in today a little deeper how profoundly this either/or really is. So here is a renewed call for a practice of deep and radical trust in the person sitting next to us. To the extent that we can trust them and validate their agency and potential contribution as a human being, we can do the same for ourselves. And vice versa.
[tags] alanwatts, trust, control[/tags]
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It’s a nice mild spring day here off the west coast of Canada. I’m at home with my kids, and we’re playing games, baking bread and making soup.
In fact, today my daughter cooked her first soup from scratch, an improvised Broccoli-Asiago cheese creation that tastes great. And so, here is our first ever Aine Corrigan-Frost soup podcast (with bonus dessert recipe).
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In meetings in the Aboriginal community, it’s not uncommon to have prayers end with “all my relations” an utterance that invites attention to everything we are related to, and everyone from whom we are descended.
As someone with a mixed ancestry, I sometimes like to think of an Open Space meeting that might have all 128 of my seventh generation genetic ancestors in the room. It would be crazy! Imagine them in a room looking at each other,perplexed, wondering what they could possibly have in common.
And then imagine inviting them to create something together. And imagine that at some point someone suggest that this incredibly eclectic group of people create a child in seven generations. A child that would carry all of their hopes for Ireland, for Scotland, for Nishnawbe-aki, for the Manx. And then I rememeber that I am the outcome of that Open Space meeting that never happened, matured exactly seven generations.
Once in a while I look around a room full of 120 or so people and I think to myself, imagine if what we created as a result of this meeting was a human being emerging in 250 years that would be the child of all of us. And suppose we decided that we would put our trust and faith in that child.
It’s amazing what a diverse group of 128 could create together.
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Sitting in Books and Company in Prince George. An older man is sitting in the window seat drinking tea and reading. Another comes up to him with a cup of coffee and points at the chessboard.
“Hello Joe,” he says. “Want a game?”
“Oh hello,” says Joe, looking up. “I’d love a game.”
There is warmth in the rhythm and cadence of the exchange, these two men at 5:00 in the afternoon, wanting to pass the time of day in each other’s company. Such an affectionate exchange, from two men who clearly have the hardest days of their lives behind them, who have discovered and embraced chance encouters with friends in coffee shops and spontaneous games of chess.
This is the purest practice of invitation. An honest gesture, reaching out and an honest embrace of the intention and willing ness to enagage, held so elegantly in the simplcity of two lines of dialogue.
This is the world I want a part of. Old men, friendship, invitation and play.
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Euan Semple, recently liberated wage slave, has a lovely post on love and work:
Where did all this come from, where did the idea that the most powerfully motivating force in the world had nothing to do with business? We spend most of our adult lives in the workplace and at work we bring about the most important and long lasting changes to our society and our planet – and yet we are not encouraged to talk in terms of love. OK we just about get away with “loving our job” our “loving success” but start talking about loving colleagues or loving customers and you’ll have people running for the door. And yet isn’t this what makes great people and great places tick. A deep sense of connection with each other, a depth of purpose beyond the every day that sees customers as more than merely stepping stones on the way to returning that value to the shareholders?…
Maybe love does have a place in business after all. Maybe more and more of us will start to have the courage to begin to talk about what really matters to us about work and our relationships with each other and to push back the sterile language of business that we have been trained to accept. Maybe we will realise that accepting love into the workplace reminds us of the original purpose of work – not to maximise shareholder value but to come together to do good things, to help each other and hopefully to make the world a better place.
To which all I can say is “yes!”