Spending a nice New Year’s Day alone at home. Pot of tea, beautiful sunny day that I will shortly head out into for a walk, and then home maybe to play some music, restring the guitar, learn a jig or a reel or two on the flute…
Listening this morning to CBC Ideas who are doing a great show on the number “50” and, because Charles Darwin wrote The Origin of Species at age 50, they have just played Baba Brinkman’s rap “Artificial Selection.”
One little line stood out, something about the fact that in evolution, little differences are what provide us with evolutionary potential. This immediately rang bells for me as I’ve been thinking about this in the work of strategy, whether that means creating a ten year plan for an organization or simply exploring options for moving forward on a discrete piece of work. Finding the pathway of best evolutionary potential requires that we introduce diversity and difference into the system. Working together across difference, as my friend Tuesday Ryan-Hart would say, is a strategic and evolutionary imperative. Accentuating the differences between each other is crucial for learning new things, seeing the world in new ways and finding new pathways out of complex tangles.
This is one of the reasons I like Open Space Technology so much. It brings a huge variety of exploration to a common topic to create multiple pathways forward for exploration. Buit whatever we can do to accentuate our differences and work together across them actually improves the evolutionary potential of the system we are in.
in most of our leadership training work and our strategic work with Harvest Moon, we devote at least a half day to working with limiting beleifs using a process developed by Byron Katie called simply The Work.
At its simplest, the work is a process of inquiring into limiting beliefs that are unhelpful in our work and lives. Such beliefs often include judgements, ideologies and other beliefs that prevent us from really seeing the reality we are dealing with. Some of these beliefs are so strong that we take them for granted – such as “Richard shouldn’t have punched Eric” which is an excellent example of an espoused belief that crumbles in the face of the reality that Eric was just punched by Richard. As anyone with teenagers knows, just saying something “should” or “shouldn’t” happen is no guarantee that it will or won’t, and is an utter denial of what just did happen (or didn’t!). Any statement that contains “should” is an argument with reality.
Every time we enter into complexity work with clients we confront limiting beliefs: this won’t work, we’ve already tried it, it’s impossible, the boss will kill it, we don’t know what to do, the answer has to be clear, and so on. Limiting beliefs do a couple of things. First they limit thinking by exerting a powerful constraint over the mind that, left unquestioned, makes us narrow our ability to scan of possibilities. And second, they cognitively entrain our thinking with unhelful attractors, so that when the boss enters the room, so do all our thoughts about the boss’s resourcefulness and support. Doing creative work with unquestioned beliefes in the way is near impossible.
The way to deal with this kind of thinking is, not surprisingly, informed by complexity practice. So this means that it won’t work to ask a direct question about that belief. Addressing situations head on is a good strategy for complicated problems but a poor strategy for complex ones. And entrained brains will always game the system. In practice this misapplication looks like adopting an affirmation or something like “I will be kinder towards my boss” that doesn’t shift thinking at all, and in fact can bury the resent and anger directed at the boss that will come out in some passive aggressive .form when you least expect it or least desire it.
instead we inquire into the the thought by looking at how a belief lines up with reality, and then looking at what happens when we are believing thoughts – how our body, emotions and behaviours are influenced when a belief is active in our mind. From there we engage in a powerful set of exercises called “turnarounds” in which we investigate beliefs from different angles. After that, we simply sit and let the mind settle. there is no action plan. We are not fixing problems, we are rewiring our cognition. It’s a simple practice, but it works because we take an oblique approach to addressing the constraints, attractors and solidified identities that limit our ability to do good work in complex and uncertain environments.
It has been very cool developing this practice with my partner Caitlin Frost who is a master facilitator and teacher of this work. As I have been exploring the world of complexity-based design, I have been seeing more and more how this process is a strong complexity-based approach to addressed constraints and cognitive entrainment in our thinking. It’s a key piece of strategic capacity building.
Somehow that statement is worth keeping nearby in my work. For me and everyone I work with.
I spend a lot of time working with people who need or want to do something new. And no level of new work – innovation, boundary breaking, next levelling or shifting – is possible without failure. A lot of it. Much more often than not.
Today, working with 37 leaders from human social services and government in our Leadership 2020 program, Caitlin asked a question: “How many of you have bosses that say it’s okay to fail? How many of you have said to your staff, it’s okay to fail? How many of you have given permission to yourself to fail?” No surprise. No hands up.
There are many reasons for this, the least of which is that people equate failure in this system with the actual death of a human being. When that is the thought you associate with failing, of course you will never put yourself in a position where failure is an option, let alone likely. And yet, it’s impossible to create new things that work right out of the box. You need to build testing and failing into strategy if you are to build new programs and services that are effective.
This is where understanding the scale at which you are working helps: hence probe, prototype, pilot, program, process…five incrementally more robust and more “fail-safe” (in terms of tolerance) approaches to innovating and creating something new. But just having a process or a tool for innovating – whether it is Cynefin, design labs, social innovation, agile, whatever – is still not going to give you a resilient mindset in which failure is tolerable or possible. And this is as true for leaders as it is for people working on the project teams that are supposed to be delivering new and better ways of caring for children and families.
In our programs and in our teaching, we double down on working with improvisational theatre and music techniques and especially The Work, which Caitlin teaches and leads. That process is the primary tool we use with ourselves and others to work on the limiting beliefs, patterns, thoughts and cognitive entrainment that impedes our ability to embrace failure based approaches. Without addressing patterns of thinking, it is just never safe to fail, and when a change leader is hidden behind that block, there is no way to truly enter into strategic, innovative practice.
How do you sharpen your failure practice?
I’ve been working in the world of program development with a lot of complexity and innovation and co-creation lately and have seen these three terms used sometimes interchangeably to describe a strategic move. As a result, I’ve been adopting a more disciplined approach to these three kinds of activities.
First some definitions.
Taken explicitly from Cynefin, a probe is an activity that teaches you about the context that you are working with. The actual outcome of the probe doesn’t matter much because the point is to create an intervention of some kind and see how your context responds. You learn about the context and that helps you make better bets as you move forward – “more stories like this, less stories like this” to quote Dave Snowden. Probes are small, safe to fail and easily observed. They help to test different and conflicting hypotheses about the context. If 8 out of 10 of your probes are not failing, you aren’t learning much about the limits of your context. Probes are actually methods of developmental evaluation.
A prototype is an activity that is designed to give you an idea of how a concept might work in reality. Prototypes are designs that are implemented for a short time, adjusted through a few iterations and improved upon. The purpose of a prototype is to put something into play and look at its performance. You need to have some success with a prototype in order to know what parts of it are worth building upon. Prototypes straddle the world of “safe to fail” and fail safe. They are both developmental evaluations tools and they also require some level of summative evaluation in order to be fully understood. Prototypes are also probes, and you can learn a lot about the system from how they work.
A pilot is a project designed to prove the worthiness of an approach or a solution. You need it to have an actual positive effect in its outcomes, and it’s less safe to fail. Pilots are often designed to achieve success, which is a good approach if you have studied the context with a set of probes and maybe prototyped an approach or two. Without good intelligence about the context you are working with, pilots are often shown to work by manipulating the results. A pilot project will run for a discrete amount of time and will then be summatively evaluated in order to determine its efficacy. If it shows promise, it may be repeated, although there is always a danger of creating a “best practice” that does not translate across different contexts. If a pilot project is done well and works, it should be integrated with the basic operating procedure of an organization, and tinkered with over time, until it starts showing signs of weakened effectiveness. From then on, it can become a program. And pilots are alos probes, and as you work with them they too will tell you a lot about what is possible in the system.
The distinctions between these three things are quite important. Often change is championed in the non-profit word with the funding of pilot projects, the design of which is based on hunches and guesses about what works, or worse, a set of social science research data that is merely one of many possible hypotheses, privileged only by the intensity of effort that went into the study. We see this all the time with needs assessments, gap analyses and SWOT-type environmental scans.
Rather than thinking of these as gradients on a line though, I have been thinking of them as a nested set of circles:
Each one contains elements of the one within it. Developing one will be better if have based your development on the levels below it. When you are confronted with complexity and several different ideas of how to move forward, run a set of probes to explore those ideas. When you have an informed hunch, start prototyping to see what you can learn about interventions. What you learn from those can be put to use as pilots to eventually become standard programs.
By far, the most important mindshift in this whole area is adopting the right thinking about probes. Because pilot projects and even prototyping is common in the social development world, we tend to rely on these methods as ways of innovating. And we tend to design them from an outcomes basis, looking to game the results towards positive outcomes. I have seen very few pilot projects “fail” even if they have not been renewed or funded. Working with probes turns this approach inside out. We seek to explore failure so we can learn about the tolerances and the landscape of the system we are working in. We “probe” around these fail points to see what we can learn about the context of our work. When we learn something positive we design things to take advantage of this moment. We deliberately do things to test hypotheses and, if you’re really good and you are in a safe-to-fail position, you can even try to create failures to see how they work. That way you can identify weak signals of failure and notice them when you see them so that when you come to design prototypes and pilots, you “know when to hold ‘em and know when to fold ‘em.”
Caitlin and I are hosting a learning process for the Vancouver Foundation which has brought together 11 people from community foundations around BC. We are trying to discover what kinds of new practices community foundations can adopt to roll with the changing nature of philanthropy and community.
It’s a classic complexity problem. The future is unknowable and unpredictable. Data is plentiful but not helpful because context trumps all. There are competing experts with different hypotheses of what should happen. These twelve people are brave. They’re willing to be the innovators in a sector that is by nature fairly conservative when it comes to change.
We are using an architecture combining Theory U and complexity work coming from Cynefin practices. I can maybe write more about our design later, but today I’m struck by a comment one of our participants made when she was reflecting on the past three months of engaging in deep dialogue interviews with people in her community. She talked to a number of people as a way of beginning to understand the context for making change, and noticed that the conversations she was having were taking her away from the rigid roles and responsibilities (and the associated posturing) that comes with trying to do interesting work in a hierarchical, top down and controlling way. Today in our check in she shared this:
“When we are given permission to talk to anyone about anything it’s freeing. We let our roles drop as well our limiting beliefs about what we can and can’t do. We are able to more closely align our actions and our way of being with our intentions.”
A pithy but powerful statement in how changing the way we converse changes the way we are able to act. It’s lovely witnessing the birth of a complexity worker.