Yeah. Imagine that."
(Maybe it's because I'm a sunny, little optimist, but I love that quote from Christopher Locke from the Cluetrain Manifesto so much that I wanted it to stand on it's own. But I must point you to the link I got it from, which is a must read piece by Manisha Verma, "On The Evolution Of Open Source" on 3Quarks. I've read through it quickly twice already and must do so more carefully again. I suggest you do too.)
One of the the things that make it so hard to see what is going on now is that we are living through two crises. The first is the chickens coming home to roost of a thirty year old experiment in implementing somewhat naive free market phantasies. The second is the flock of giant canaries that are telling us that our two hundred year old experiment in carbon fuelled industrialisation may be drawing to an uncomfortable close. The paradox is that maybe the solution to the short term crisis lies in setting out to solve the long term one.
Yet again, Simon Caulkin gets it bang on. Commenting on the Stafford Hospital case, where the Health Commission found that Stafford Hospital's senior management's success in meeting their targets which gained them Foundation status was to the detriment of patient care and may have led to the deaths of 400 people between 2005 and 2008, he concludes:
They even propose a health warning: "Goals may cause systematic problems in organisations due to narrowed focus, increased risk-taking, unethical behaviour, inhibited learning, decreased co-operation, and decreased intrinsic motivation." As a glance at Stafford hospital would tell them, that's not the half of it."
The words "reflection" and "reflective practitioner" get tossed around like confetti these days and mostly with about the same substance. So it is a real pleasure to come across someone, who while he may not use those words, really understands the concept.
I have know Ian Worley for a number of years now and as well as being a king of the BBQ I have always found that our conversations about both the craft and the business of design have shown him to be a real reflective practitioner with fresh and original insights into both. So keep an eye on his blog. I suspect that he wont post that often, but when he does it will be well worth setting some time aside to read and to reflect on his thinking.
Here is a taster from the end of his first long entry:
And yet, people often stop themselves from engaging in this most essential process because they are afraid of the uncertainty of it...they do not know what to make or think about. But a painting is not thought through before it is painted...a painting is thought through AS it is painted. And it begins with a mark...any mark. The same is true with writing or music or any other type of creative activity. One cannot wait to begin only when one knows what one is doing. One has to simply start...somewhere...and respond. Each action leads to the next...and as the work progresses...it begins to define what it needs to be as much as what it is because you come to know more about what you are trying to achieve by doing it. This is not to say that you cannot begin with an idea...but rather to say that the idea of a starting point should not be confused with the ending. Begin at the beginning...but let the end unfold through the feedback of making and thinking."
Today I went back and had a look at something I wrote at the height of the dot.com boom. While some of the quotes I used look a little creaky, the central argument seems just as relevant today as it did then. Take a look here and let me know what you think. Here's a chunk as a sample:
5 Capabilities
Creativity is often described as a problem-solving activity. The problem with problem-solving is that it focuses on what is rather than what could be. If we want to do things differently rather than better we have to learn to search for the capabilities in any situation. Instead of identifying problems we will have to open ourselves to potentials. Instead of a world of fixed unchanging categories we will have to learn to see the world as more fluid, more open to change, and, ultimately, more mysterious. The trick we have to learn is to balance our habits, our experience, with the fresh and the new. We have to find ways of making the familiar strange to us. We have to tune in to the mysteriousness of the everyday. It is here that play and playful activities assume their role. Play releases us from a hardening of the categories. Play is the tool that allows us to see the capabilities concealed in the familiar.
"The great landscape gardener, Lancelot Brown, when confronted with a client's estate, did not say "what is your problem?", he asked "what are the capabilities of this piece of land?". Optimism, generality, and scope flowed where otherwise all would have been pessimism, specificity, and narrowness. That is what is wrong with conventional wisdom: not enough Capability Browns and too many Problematic Tom, Dicks and Harrys."
Michael Thompson "Rubbish Theory: The creation and destruction of value, Oxford University Press, 1979: pp51
"To think of design as 'problem-solving' is to use a rather dead metaphor for a lively process and to forget that design is not so much a matter of adjusting the status quo as of realising new possibilities and discovering our reactions to them."
J.Christopher Jones, " Design Methods: seeds of human futures", 1980 edition, John Wiley & Sons, 1980, ppxxiii
By a bitter irony it is beginning to look as if one of the most effective means of dealing with global warming lies in an agricultural technology invented and practised by people, who were effectively wiped out by the unintended consequences of the European intrusions into the "New World" several hundred years ago.
Without going into its origins James Lovelock makes the case for this technology in an interview in the New Scientist:
There is one way we could save ourselves and that is through the massive burial of charcoal. It would mean farmers turning all their agricultural waste - which contains carbon that the plants have spent the summer sequestering - into non-biodegradable charcoal, and burying it in the soil. Then you can start shifting really hefty quantities of carbon out of the system and pull the CO2 down quite fast.
Would it make enough of a difference?
Yes. The biosphere pumps out 550 gigatonnes of carbon yearly; we put in only 30 gigatonnes. Ninety-nine per cent of the carbon that is fixed by plants is released back into the atmosphere within a year or so by consumers like bacteria, nematodes and worms. What we can do is cheat those consumers by getting farmers to burn their crop waste at very low oxygen levels to turn it into charcoal, which the farmer then ploughs into the field. A little CO2 is released but the bulk of it gets converted to carbon. You get a few per cent of biofuel as a by-product of the combustion process, which the farmer can sell. This scheme would need no subsidy: the farmer would make a profit. This is the one thing we can do that will make a difference, but I bet they won't do it."
If you are interested in the scientific background to Lovelock's argument, a good starting point is the web pages of the Terra Preta de Indio - Biochar Soil Management project at Cornell University's Department of Crop and Soil Sciences.
For a good overview, Fiona Harvey, environment correspondent for the FT, has an excellent review of the field and also makes the important point that:
But where things get more interesting, complicated and very controversial is when we look at the history of the technology of bio-char. Depending on which view you take this raises very important questions about our relationship to nature and the world and our relationships with each other and the unintended consequences of those relationships.
But let's start simply with the opening paragraphs of a summary of a BBC TV programme that first sparked my interest in bio-char or as it is called in South America, Terra Preta de Indio.
Now several centuries later, as Charles C. Mann reports, support for Orellana's account comes from:
Interesting though the possibility of a lost Amazonian civilisation and the implications of its approach to land magnet may be there is a wider story of the peoples of the Americas and the civilisations they may have created that we need to pay attention to. The gifts from the Americas to the human world have been immense and sparked interactions for both good and ill that still resonate today.
In a long article by in The Atlantic that is worth setting aside some time to read and ponder, Charles C. Mann points to the work of Alfred Crosby, which reminds us that:
Maize, as corn is called in the rest of the world, was a triumph with global implications. Indians developed an extraordinary number of maize varieties for different growing conditions, which meant that the crop could and did spread throughout the planet. Central and Southern Europeans became particularly dependent on it; maize was the staple of Serbia, Romania, and Moldavia by the nineteenth century. Indian crops dramatically reduced hunger, Crosby says, which led to an Old World population boom.
Along with peanuts and manioc, maize came to Africa and transformed agriculture there, too. "The probability is that the population of Africa was greatly increased because of maize and other American Indian crops," Crosby says. "Those extra people helped make the slave trade possible." Maize conquered Africa at the time when introduced diseases were leveling Indian societies. The Spanish, the Portuguese, and the British were alarmed by the death rate among Indians, because they wanted to exploit them as workers. Faced with a labor shortage, the Europeans turned their eyes to Africa. The continent's quarrelsome societies helped slave traders to siphon off millions of people. The maize-fed population boom, Crosby believes, let the awful trade continue without pumping the well dry."
It is important to remember that these gifts from the Americas were not simply stuff lying around, they were cultivated and thus like Terra Preta de Indio the products of technologies. And technologies are made by people. And if some of the archaeologists, anthropologists and historians cited by Charles Mann are right there were lots of people in the Americas before the Europeans arrived. lots and lots of people, 95% of whom were wiped out by the diseases the Europeans and their animals brought with them.
Now all this is very controversial stuff and Mann quite fairly highlights the opposition to this view, but let's just suppose their right - what does this do to our story?
Well for a start, it turns part of the picture that many of us hold of our history on its head. The picture I have had is of the Americas as wilderness with a few people, with the exceptions of the Incas, Mayans and Aztecs, living lightly off the land.
But Mann is saying there is another, radically different picture building up:
I find it hopeful too. These days it has become fashionable to see our impact on the world as largely destructive. The story of Terra Preta de Indio suggests a more complex and complicated view. Yes, we can be both deliberately and unwittingly destructive as a species, but also we can be creative and nurturing, actively making a world in which we can flourish and thrive. Sunny, little optimist that I am, I will take a small bet on our ability to muddle through and find the silver buckshot that will ensure a convivial world for our great, great, great grandchildren and beyond. And, just maybe, that world will look a little like the New World of "a huge, special garden, planned and maintained by the active efforts of a wildly diverse range of societies" we Europeans may have inadvertently destroyed. A vision that some, like my friend Nick Routledge are already working to achieve.
Many years ago when I spent much of my time managing projects I noticed an interesting phenomenon; when I had to be away, attending a conference or something, the projects leapt ahead. I called this phenomenon "Management By Absence". (I guess I ought to insert a TM here).
I wrote something similar about three years ago that may be worth repeating now that "the manager's right to manage" seems to have led us into an unholy, unmanageable mess:
"I know I keep on going on going on about Simon Caulkin, but he does write some good stuff. Last Sunday's piece, "Adrift in a parallel universe" was filled with gems. I think my favourite was this one:
It reminded me of one of the findings from research Shoshana Zuboff did in the 80s and wrote up in "In the Age of the Smart Machine: The Future of Work and Power" published in 1988. She found a similar phenomenon in the recently computerised Pulp Mills, where the night shift, less interfered with by managers, was more productive than the day shift.
Caulkin's main point was the disjunction between management speak and what is actually happening. I would take it a little further him. I have a great admiration for managers, who are some of the most creative people around. The problem is our confusion of language. Most of the people who are labelled "managers" aren't. They are administrators and apparatchiks, whose language reflects their bureaucratic nature.
Now there is nothing wrong with administrators and administration, indeed they play an important part in maintaining the stability of organisations. The problem comes when what they do is confused with management, which it frequently is and where we can see that their role becomes one of subtracting value from an organisation rather than adding it.
Maybe the answer is to start a campaign for real managers?"