Random haiku

It’s a cold and rainy Sunday afternoon – a final blast of winter before spring sets in properly – so what better reason for some random haiku?

Old Dog (this one’s for the good folk at CommonCraft, who lost Amos this week)

Dog’s breath, grey muzzle
That look, that tail wag, ever
happy to love us

Real Footy (that’s Australian Rules Football)

Footy season done!
Cats rule. Saints gutted. Draft picks
to come. Tiges one day?

Cats = Geelong Football Club; Saints = St Kilda Football Club; Tiges = Richmond Football Club

Airports (this is where I’ll be spending a lot of time between now and the end of the year)

Humans on the move
Waiting, queuing, filling time
Coming and going

Ways of knowing

Way back, when I did my Masters, I took a subject called Ways of Knowing. I think. Maybe I made that up. I DO remember lots of talk about knowing. I DO know it’s been of interest to me ever since.

Scientific, evidence-based knowing is one way of knowing. There are others. I’m most interested in ways of knowing that become a part of me – not just a cognitive, intellectual understanding, but a down-to-your-toes and end-of-your-fingertips type of knowing.

There’s a few things I’ve been exploring that I can still only grasp cognitively. When explained to me, I can nod, and think, ‘yes, I get that’ – but I don’t really. Not to the point where I can recognise it when it leaps out at me, or others.

Here’s one I came to understood eventually: ‘the action is in the interaction’ (this I learnt from Paul Z Jackson and solutions-focus). I sort of understood it – intellectually anyway – until one day it just clicked and I actually FELT a new understanding. It’s no longer just a glib phrase, but a deep understanding that I can live and share with others.

And here’s two I’m still struggling with.

‘Split intentions’ and ‘liminal space‘.

Many have tried different ways of explaining – and I’ll keep exploring, because one day, I hope, these will just  ‘click’ too, and I’ll really *get* them. Why do I bother? Because I think both concepts are interesting and helpful in understanding how and why, we and the world, works. And because I’m curious. And maybe a little bit stubborn. And I’m interested in different ways of knowing.

Post-script: Patti Digh and David Robinson introduced me to both these concepts – so I hold them responsible! And in the absence of being able to sit down with them and have a long conversation, here’s the next best thing. Patti and David are hosting a free teleclass later this week on split intentions. If, like me, you’re interested in this, and can’t make the teleclass live, by registering you’ll be able to listen later. That’s my plan. Go here to register.

Stop thinking

Over the past fortnight I’ve had a particularly tricky problem on my mind – nothing too serious, just messy and complicated and a bit demoralising. The more I thought about it the less able I felt. I started to question my own capacity to think and make sense, yet alone identify options.

So I let it go. I stopped thinking about the issue for a whole week. Consciously, anyway. I read books. I blogged. I watched mindless television and exciting football games (that’d be Aussie Rules Football of course!) I walked on the beach and in the forest. I balanced rocks. I had weird dreams – none of which I can remember. I weeded the vegie garden. I trained some people in facilitation. I listened to music. I slept in. I met friends for coffee, and others for dinner.

And then I returned to the problem. And click, click, click. The synapses fired. Options were all around. Ideas exploding. Enthusiasm reignited. I just had to let it go and be patient. Easy to say. Hard to do. Worth remembering.

Photo credit: iStockphoto

Beer for water

I just discovered this slideshow and the accompanying campaign. I think it’s a great idea. Check it out and see what you think.

A doorstop versus relationship rules

Many years ago I read a very good article about the differences between a Big Mac and the Naked Chef by Joel Spolsky. It was 2001. It’s about scaleability, and quality. And surprisingly, it’s still on the web, hence the link. The main premise was this:

1. Some things need talent to do really well.
2. It’s hard to scale talent.
3. One way people try to scale talent is by having the talent create rules for the untalented to follow.
4. The quality of the resulting product is very low.

Now Joel was talking about IT companies. I think this can be applied to anyone, anything. Especially organisations that want to control the quality and outputs of their workers. It is, of course, possible. The price is quality and innovation.

Fast forward to 2009 and the book In Pursuit of Elegance by Matthew May that I wrote about here.

My heart sinks when I see the manual – the guide on how to do things. There’s a belief that if we have a manual (or rules of engagement, or accredidation, or similar) we can minimise risk and ensure quality. Matthew May argues the opposite. If we have the rules all set out we stop paying attention. And we are less engaged with the task at hand. He cites Hans Monderman, a Dutch road traffic engineer and innovator.

Hans Monderman is behind the design of Laweiplein in Drachten – an unregulated traffic intersection that accounts for 22,000 cars, thousands of cyclists and pedestrians.

One of the reasons this works is because “…you are not just another adherent to an imposed order, but rather a fully engaged and contributing participant in the emerging self-organisation.”

What Hans Monderman discovered is the same as what Jackson Pollock discovered. And is also true for flocking birds. “When you are fully involved in a process governed by very simple relationship rules, a natural inclination takes over, and a self-organised pattern emerges that is far more orderly than anything legislation could produce. Under those circumstances, you’re connected and interacting with what’s around you.”

Now let’s apply that to organisations. Is it possible that a handful of relationship rules, that are interpreted by people, would be more effective, engaging and purposeful than a doorstop of a manual full of do’s and don’ts?

Insanely Great Slideshows

Some of you might know that Geoff Brown and I have been playing with slideshows – learning ourselves how to make them insanely great and providing some training to share what we’ve learned with others. Two of our key influencers have been Garr Reynolds, Presentation Zen guru and Nancy Duarte, slide:ology guru

You can go here and see three short videos of them chatting casually about three key questioons they often get about slideshows:

1. How do your methodologies apply to scientific or technical presentations?

2. How many slides should I use?

3. If we simplify our slides using your methodology and then need to circulate the slides how do people know what the content of the presentation was?

Well worth a look.

Geoff has been facilitating a conference where we had an opportunity to work with the keynote speakers to help them develop insanely great slideshows. Apparently they did a fantastic job and the audience was wowed! Importantly, the audience is more likely to remember their messages.

At some facilitation training I delivered recently in Indonesia I used a slideshow where I incorporated much of what I’ve learnt. Even without additional training this influenced people present to try their hand at simplifying their messages and using more images.

Both these examples are great feedback for us and is what encourages us to continue to offer this low-key, and seemingly impactful training. Okay, that’s the sales pitch – the real reason we do it is cos we can make some money and have fun while doing so. Oh, and work together too. That’s always fun.

Photo credit: www.iStockphoto.com

Free thinking – ruminations on the future of Beyond the Edge

I’ve been reading two books that are influencing my current thinking. The first is In Pursuit of Elegance: Why the Best Ideas Have Something Missing by Matthew May and Free: The Future of a Radical Price by Chris Anderson.

In the Pursuit of Elegance, Matthew May argues that doing and adding may often be of disservice and we might just be better to stop, observe and think. So instead of leaping to solutions, often top-of-head ones, we give ourselves space to discover more elegant, sustainable solutions. Of course, this doesn’t apply to everyday decisions we make like what to have for breakfast or where to park the car, but might well be applied to those dilemmas that keep demanding a more thoughtful approach.

The book is scattered with useful bits of wisdom like: “In the rush to create order and organisation, we often get the exact opposite of the intended, desired effect.”

And: “The counterintuitive dynamic at work is this: the more we try to control and regulate our risk, the more exposed and at risk we are, because the more protected from hazards we think we are, the less conscious of potential dangers we become.”

This has many application to facilitating. I see facilitators implement their plan without much regard to what’s happening right in front of them. This dynamic is also at work in the strategic planning business.

So: “When you remove certainty and predictability, engagement and awareness rises. Uncertainty and ambiguity can create intrigue, which makes us slow down and think.”

We humans seem to be hard-wired to believe that more must be better. Adding. Vitamin C is good for us so lots of Vitamin C must be better. Nope. Some food is good, so lots is better. True, when we were hunter-gatherers, not so much today. Some information is good, so more must be better.  Just ask anyone who has tried to implement a change by providing more information,or even a compelling case. This is my favourite, because it also taps into the ‘Curse of Knowledge’. More on that later.

We’re also hard-wired to do something. Acting. Just look at how much emphasise we place on busy-ness, and on multi-tasking.

Therefore: “We mistakenly pose the question ‘What should we do?’ before asking ‘What is possible?’ We want a solution but we don’t want the patience to wait for the optimal one, favouring implementation over incubation.”

Oh, wow. I can just imagine many people being horrified. Those same people who crave control. And certainty.

Back to the Curse of Knowledge: “More and more people working in jobs today rely on a deep level of knowledge in a special area – what we call subject matter expertise – for their livlihoods. But that kind of special knowledge can actually get in the way when it comes to crafting elegant solutions. Special subject matter expertise is the mother of all mind-sets, the enemy of objectivity.” This may lead to “ideas that are nothing more than updated versions of old thinking.”

We invest so much time and effort in gaining knowledge in our areas of expertise, it’s hard to grasp that that very same knowledge may be a curse. I see this when ‘experts’ prepare a slideshow for a talk. One of the keys to a great slideshow (even an Insanely Great Slideshow Presentation, sorry, blatent plug!) is to take away. To say less. To convince with elegant arguments rather than yet more data.

Matthew May argues that in pursuit of elegance, we need to stop doing, and adding, and engage in activities unrelated to the issue at hand. “Most artists, musicians, writers, and other creatives instinctively know that the incubation of great ideas involves seemingly unproductive times…[and] hinges on the ability to synthesize connections between seemingly disparate things. And a key factor is achieving that is physical or mental time away from the problem.”

Why then, do we have such an issue with taking time out, slowing down, removing ourselves from a problem to let it incubate? “Perhaps it’s the fear of failure or simply of inaction. Backing off from tackling a complex problem is counterintuitive and goes against our bias for action. It’s scary to ease up, because we think we may lose our momentum or abandon hope. We get anxious when ideas aren’t forthcoming, so we begin to doubt our creativity, abilities, and intelligence.”

Guilty, your honour! I can so relate to this – especially working in my own micro-business. And I also see this with facilitation too – the need to be seen to be doing something, to be active, to be earning your fee compared with stepping back and allowing the group to do the work they need to do without your interference.

Which provides a nice segue to Free: The Future of a Radical Price. The premise of this book is that in the 20th Century we made money from atoms – things that we could see and hold. In the 21st century the new economy is around bits – things we can’t see and hold. I’m doing it now. Writing a blog where the cost to me is in my time and when it’s published the market will determine if it’s read.

Okay, I’m on shaky ground here. True to say this is probably the first book about economics I’ve ever read. Come to think of it, I did study economics at high school, but I’m pretty sure I didn’t read anything at all memorable. Or that I’d want to blog about. Not that blogs existed then. Which is part of my problem. I grew up in a time when stuff cost money to produce and money to sell or buy. That creates an economy. Now, some stuff costs so little to produce, or can’t be measured, that it’s free. And there’s lots of different types of free. I’m caught between my own history and living in the present. This creates a disjunct between what I know (about how the world should be) and what I’m actually experiencing (how the world is). Yikes!

Chris Anderson explains: “In [my] world where food, shelter, and the rest of Maslow’s subsistence needs are met without having to labour in the fields from dawn to dusk, we find ourselves with what sociologists call ‘cognitive surplus’ – energy and knowledge not fully tapped by our jobs. At the same time we have emotional and intellectual needs that aren’t fully satisfied at work, either. What our ‘free labour’ in an area that we value grants us is respect, attention, expression, and an audience.”

He also explores this strange hybrid world that many of us exist in – and maybe, like me, are trying to make sense of. He talks about the scarcity market – for example, advertising space in a magazine; indeed, editorial space in a magazine – compared with abundant markets – on-line publishing, for example. “Because we compete in both scarce and abundant markets, one-size management structure doesn’t fit all – we need to simultaneously pursue both control and chaos.” Ah-ha! This is probably the single most important insight I’ve had about running my micro-business. Embracing control for those things I offer that are scarce – my time to come and facilitate your workshop or training; and letting go of what I offer that’s part of the abundant economy.

This is the question that I’ll be trying to apply the principles of elegance to: how do I do more of what I love, for free, and still make a living?

Photo credit: Sunset Pose, Niamey, Niger by morealtitude

Post Script: I think photography is one of those things that can embrace elegance – and where it’s so easy not to. The great photos are great because of what’s left out. And flickr is an example of the Free Economy.

Open Space in action

For the past four years or so Fr Brian Bainbridge has been using the principles of Open Space Technology, and the process of OST, to transform the suburban parish where he is the Parish Priest.

This is a remarkable story of transformation within one of the most bureaucratic and hierarchical of establishments – the Catholic Church. Lucky for us, Brian has recorded the story and published an e-book. Even if you are not about to take on the Catholic Church or don’t have a parish to administer, you will learn much about how Open Space Technology can tap into the self-organisation that is inherent in any group, club, community or organisation.

The book reveals how Open Space is so much more than a simple meeting process.

You can buy the book (for US$5) here.

Vote for our manifesto. Please.

We (that’s Anne Pattillo and I) have been playing with manifesto writing. We put in a proposal to ChangeThis to write a manifesto about facilitation. We noticed that no-one had done it yet.

ChangeThis challenges the way ideas are created and spread, and is on a mission to spread important ideas and change minds.

We need people like you to vote for our proposal. Please. Before October 14. If we get enough votes we’ll be invited to write it.

You can read our proposal and vote for it here. Thanks.

Riding a dead horse

Hat tip to Dave Pollard

This is one of my favourite sayings in workshops (for some reason I seem to find people riding dead horses quite often!) so I was pleased to read this:

The tribal wisdom of the Dakota Indians, passed down from generation to generation, says that when you discover that you are riding a dead horse, the best strategy is to dismount. In the public service, however, a whole range of far more advanced strategies is often employed, such as:

1. Change riders.

2. Buy a stronger whip.

3. Do nothing: “This is the way we have always ridden dead horses”.

4. Visit other countries to see how they ride dead horses.

5. Perform a productivity study to see if lighter riders improve the dead horse’s performance.

6. Hire a contractor to ride the dead horse.

7. Harness several dead horses together in an attempt to increase the speed.

8. Provide additional funding and/or training to increase the dead horse’s performance.

9. Appoint a committee to study the horse and assess how dead it actually is.

10. Re-classify the dead horse as “living-impaired”.

11. Develop a Strategic Plan for the management of dead horses.

12. Rewrite the expected performance requirements for all horses.

13. Modify existing standards to include dead horses.

14. Declare that, as the dead horse does not have to be fed, it is less costly, carries lower overheads, and therefore contributes substantially more to the bottom line than many other horses.

15. Promote the dead horse to a supervisory position.

16. (added by another commenter) Issue Collateralized Horse Obligations