Proceed Until Apprehended

This images is from typcut, found via Thank Goodness it’s Monday.

Love it.

I played rugby for a couple years in university. It was a great experience and I look back on the friendships and the competition with great fondness.

The social aspects of rugby can really suck a university-age guy in, but I also fell in love with the sport. It looks like a battle of brutish violence, but there’s much more to it. There’s a lot of nuance and complexity to the game. There’s strategies and techniques that compel entire nations to be gripped by the sport.

One of the things I really like about it is how it requires so many different skills and strengths. Young or old, fast or slow, slight or stocky, there’s a role for you.

As a rugby newbie, I think my path was pretty typical. All of the complexity escaped me. I couldn’t read plays, I wasn’t in position and I exerted tons of energy. In that moment, I was giving it my all. In retrospect, I was sure working hard, but I wasn’t being very effective. As time wore on and I gained experience and started to see the patterns of the game. I transitioned from blind exertion to a more targeted effort that created greater results.

It’s a pretty good analogy for choices we get to make in life, of course. We can blindly exert our energy or we can play with our heads up.

In rugby and in life, it’s easy to attain the feeling that you’re making tremendous strides. I mean, you’re sweating so much, right? It’s maybe a little easier in rugby, though, to see what actually puts points on the board.

Peter Drucker famously, brilliantly said “Management is doing things right; Leadership is doing the right things.”

We get immersed worrying about being productive and efficient, but rarely do we acknowledge if we’re doing the right task to meet our purpose. It’s safe to just focus on your task. It’s scary to say that things need to change.

This video reminded me of the lesson. Here’s someone who has become as efficient as possible on a particular task. She’s doing things right. In fact, I’m pretty sure she’s the world’s fastest.

The question, then, is it the right thing?

There is someone that can get through this book even faster. It’s the person that realizes it’s not about fast hands. It’s about process. It doesn’t matter how fast you can stamp when someone realizes you can change the policy to make the stamp unnecessary.

Perhaps we can say, “Management is stamping as fast as humanly possible; Leadership is asking why we need to stamp.” Which one are you doing?

First, let’s accept that risk is required. It’s required to cross the street, make a phone call, buy a product, sell a product, start a program, end a program, quit a job, start a job, continue in the job the same way you did yesterday… the list goes on. I think you get the picture. Any one of those things could have negative implications.

Each one of these examples also has a Worst Case Scenario that we could have all sorts of fun with. For example, as you cross the street, the city’s electrical system goes haywire and the intersection’s light changes color. A businessperson that’s on their cell phone at the light, complaining about the $1,000,000 they just lost that morning goes from seeing red to seeing green. In an instinctual response, they step on the gas a little too aggressively just as you put your right foot (the better of your two feet, in your opinion) in the path of their SUV. Squish, snap, hospital.

Is that an acceptable risk? Was it really worth getting to the other side? Let me assure you, you’ll forever regret choosing that particular restaurant for lunch.

The reason we choose to accept that risk, however, is that there’s a big difference between the magnitude of the implications and the probability of it happening. We choose to cross the street because the benefit significantly outweighs the real risk.

In reality, we don’t work with possible risk. We work with probable.

At work, however, our judgement changes. Why, all of a sudden, is the 1% probability up for discussion? It’s actually even more than just a discussion. That improbable event weighs heavier in the deliberation than realistic issues. We invest in low percentage concerns at too high a rate. Everything I’ve been reading lately says, “Start, then steer to correct.” Most days, I’m invited to “Steer, steer, steer, correct, steer, then maybe, just maybe, start.”

It’s a simple solution, I suppose, and one that starts with you and me. If we want to absolve ourselves of the risk, we identify the improbable to our boss or coworker. That makes them responsible. Instead, as an experiment, choose to accept some improbable risk and skip that step. Just proceed. What do you think will happen?

Here’s a hint:  The magic of Proceed Until Apprehended is that the Apprehended part rarely happens.

I recommend you watch The Matrix again. I just watched it for the first time in years, and I CAN’T BELIEVE how simply and accurately The Matrix serves as a metaphor for the world we live in, the conventions we ascribe to and the blissful ignorance we live with each day… except for when it’s not blissful. If it wasn’t for the Hollywood-style violence, I’d say this movie is as important to school curriculum as the classics of English class. It probably is anyway.

I went and found a good description of the metaphor between the Matrix and our life. As the article suggests, The Matrix offers us the ability to examine our world with exceptional clarity.

This got me thinking, though. I saw all of this ten years ago. I think I “got it” then. At that time, why did I go back to my job on Monday and keep working in my own Matrix? Or, the real mind-bender, how different is it this time?

Before Neo becomes Neo, he’s Thomas Anderson. Don’t you think Thomas Anderson got to go to a movie on a Friday night and watch something like The Matrix? Did he step out into the cool evening air and realize he was inside an artificial construct? Apparently not. The human mind doesn’t seem to have that kind of sudden-insight capacity. It wasn’t until he took a red pill from Morpheus and physically got some distance that he understood the limitations of what he was thinking and seeing.

So, as I see this movie for the second time, I think I have some physical distance from my artificial construct, and I’m trying to get more. The first time I saw this movie, it was sort of a description of what was going on, while I was in it. I was like an early Neo, hearing the whisper of “Matrix” in the corners of a dark room. There was a more fulsome theory of what was real and what was artificial that needed to be poked and prodded, but I couldn’t see it. As Morpheus says, “Unfortunatley, no one can be told what the Matrix is. You have to see it for yourself.”

Fast forward ten years, I’ve made some pretty significant leaps outside the conventional lines of my Matrix. I’ve chosen in places not to follow the rules of social expectation. I’ve shed some of the consumer/recipient role. I’m no longer a dispassionate observer saying, “wow, what if that were real?” I’m a participant, receiving motivation and inspiration that I’m not alone in believing our current world isn’t the way it’s supposed to be, or has to be.

If my quasi-rambling post isn’t making sense, let me put something on the record. I don’t think machines are putting artificial constructs in my mind. I think the systems and conventions we’ve built up over generations are.

The movie also reminds me that I chose the red pill. I have an obligation to do something with what I’ve seen and learned.

Morpheus: “Neo, sooner or later you’re going to realize, just as I did, that there’s a difference between knowing the path and walking the path.”

I’ve found it quite frustrating to see up close some organizational attempts at improving culture. We seem to make piecemeal attempts. At one moment, senior leadership may set out a new vision or a new set of expectations but there’s no resources for follow-up. At another time, there may be a change in processes or compensation that is intended to influence the culture of the organization, but they compete against incentives supporting stasis. Next, an initiative is unveiled that promises you autonomy and the ability to make decisions… but no-one tells your boss. It’s unfortunate, but it’s a pretty rare circumstance where we see an all-hands-on-deck effort to address organizational culture. When an organization does, they’re an anomaly, they’re newsworthy and they might just get bought out for $847 million.

Culture, it seems to me, is a pretty static, identifiable thing. If only someone had studied the essential elements of culture… which brings me to my post title. Isn’t anthropology ALL ABOUT understanding culture? Well, not quite. Google tells me there’s more to it than that: define: anthropology – the social science that studies the origins and social relationships of human beings

On Wikipedia, I learned that E.B. Tylor is one of the grandfathers of anthropology. He described culture as “that complex whole which includes knowledge, belief, art, morals, law, custom, and any other capabilities and habits acquired by man as a member of society.”

There’s a start! If we’re trying to address culture, this definition provides some assistance. First, we can acknowledge that culture is “complex.” Perhaps with that knowledge we can forever disavow the use of uni-dimensional solutions that barely scrape the surface of addressing culture. Second, what a helpful list: knowledge, belief, art, morals, laws and customs. Maybe this needs a little tinkering for the contemporary organization, but we see all of these in the workplace:

• knowledge in, well, knowledge, and how we transfer it, share it and use it
• belief in our paradigms, like “senior staff always knows best” and “mistakes are bad”
• art – well, this one’s a stretch. There’s not much expression at work. Our lack of expression – the corporate language and the way we communicate is our “art,” I think, and it is significant in defining our culture.
• morals like putting in lots of hours, being available 24/7, producing just what the boss asked for… you know, the required societal behaviours to earn promotion
• custom – customs are things we just do because everyone else does, right? Like taking our shoes off at the door, shaking hands when we meet and defending our program even though the critic has a point.

This isn’t just a fun comparison, though. We could use this list. If we really want to address culture, this list is a great place to start. Tom, you create some solutions to improve how we write our documents. Sally, please put together a team to identify and question the customs we’re just doing.

I’d be pretty excited to work in an organization that said, “Culture is necessary for our success. Let’s put our energy into getting it right for the long haul.”

A recent Bad Astronomy post helps put some perspective around a pretty fascinating Hubble telescope image.

It’s clear that we’re an infinitessimal speck in this universe. BA’s blogger Phil Plait points out that this zoom shot is a really narrow sliver of the night sky. There are 30 million more possible pictures like this one, and you can bet they’re  just as full of galaxies.

If pondering the size of the universe doesn’t do it for you, visit this Nick Vujicic video.

With a timely and more than adequate perspective smack, I now go back to my day.

Try this with me. Use both your index finger and your middle finger to point with both hands. Tilt your head slightly forward, place your newly formed pointers at your temples and try and turn on your screensaver. Sometimes it takes up to five minutes, but you’ll get it. I promise.

If that’s not your cup of tea, try this: By simply using your free will, you can alter the behaviour of others.

This is sci-fi, mind-bending stuff, but I need you to bear with me. By simply deciding what you’re going to do (and not do), you can influence the way others act.

Here’s an example. I decided not to be so beholden to email. Actually, I decided not to allow my day to be dictated by all members of the interruption family – walk-in requests, phone calls and voicemails, emails, the day’s media stories… I made a conscious choice to work on the most important things, not the last thing.

I still deal with all the “incoming,” but I do it on my schedule. That means twice a day email checks, all phone calls screened, polite requests to reschedule if an interruption is inconvenient and I disregard local media.

You know what happened?

Nothing.

Well actually, better than nothing. Colleagues quit sending me urgent stuff. I quit being so quick to respond to what I saw as distractions and I received less of them.

How did that happen, you say? Well, this is where the paranormal piece is strongest. I don’t really know what caused it. I don’t think it was a conscious utility decision by my colleagues (Danielson won’t help, keep him off the list). I think it was that, over time, I was no longer considered the guy who just gets stuff done. At some point, I stopped being top of mind for panic situations. I quit being an enabler of urgency addiction.

Maybe another example makes it clearer. I like to ride my bike to work. I’m a die-hard commuter during the months we’re not covered in snow. When I first started biking, I was a timid, apologetic cyclist, using the roadway when I wasn’t being an obstruction for vehicles. I’d squeeze over to the right side, as far as I could without falling onto the curb and make myself small when a vehicle skimmed past. And vehicles came real close. Drivers saw that I was offering the lane and they took it. It was their lane after all, I was just an interloper.

Now, though, I’ve decided my bike is a vehicle. it’s MY LANE to do with as I please. I’m right out in the middle of it, and if a driver doesn’t like it, well, they can not like it. It’s now a rare occurrence that a vehicle doesn’t give me a wide berth.

You could say I’m moving three tons of glass and metal with my mind. Pretty impressive, huh?

I tend to think of my bike actions as “signaling.” The behaviours I consciously exhibit (and remain steadfastly committed to) create a constant that others simply choose to work around. In a way, I’m counting on the smaller commitment of others. They may desire to move/operate/function in a certain way, but it’s not worth their time to argue with the obstinate guy.

Of course, I don’t think I’m obstinate. I think I’m passionate, and committed, and thoughtful. Sometimes it’s hard because I feel like other’s eyes are boring into me either at the office or on the road, but that’s actually my baggage. I can definitely influence that.

At my high school graduation, they held a play-money casino night as our social event. One of the venues at our casino was a horse-racing game. You’d bet on your horse, they would play the video of the race and you’d see how your horse placed. Now, I don’t know if the game was flawed or someone just hadn’t read the directions, but we had odds for all future races for the evening. Same horses, same names, just a “different day” at the track. After one race, it became apparent to me that the odds for each horse in the next race were adjusted based on their earlier performance. Essentially, the future odds told you what was going to happen in the current race.

Like any good bettor, I used the available information to place my bets. It looked like a tremendous winning streak, until there were too many wins to just be luck. Then others suggested that I had the game at home, or somehow I was cheating. I wouldn’t call it cheating. I was taking the loosely formed (and mostly just implied) rules of the game and using them as best I could. By (math) skill and insight, I was cleaning up.

Rationalization aside, I don’t think I can adequately describe the anxious feeling I had as I exploited my loophole. I was so far ahead, I was sure I must be doing something wrong. It couldn’t be this easy. I felt huge pressure to stop playing the game. Eventually, I did stop.

It’s a goofy little story, but I was reminded of it today as I read Moneyball by Michael Lewis. It’s an artfully crafted story about one team’s application of objective, rational assessments to the selection of baseball players when seemingly every other team in the league uses judgments steeped in baseball culture. They’re using beliefs that are irrational. The only thing that keeps the beliefs alive is that it’s what everyone else is doing, too. General Manager of the Oakland A’s, Billy Beane, is at a completely different level as he selects ball players because they’ll perform and win games, even if they’re not the traditional prototype. It’s a massive success. As an outsider looking in, it’s sort of a “well, duh” thing, but I know it wasn’t easy. There’s a breaking of convention. Unfulfilled social expectation. People that look for how you’re cheating. The possibility that you’re wrong, that you’ll fail. It would be so much easier to just follow the same implied rules as everyone else.

The lesson, of course, is that it’s the person with the willingness to stare down those pressures and stick to a new, rational belief that finds the way to be much more effective and, perhaps, eventually change the game.

If I had figured that out in high school, I could have purchased a bigger plastic novelty item with my play money.

For organizations on the brink of being irrelevant, finding a way for ideas to surface and take hold is essential.

Stagnant organizations have a culture of “hanging on,” of trying to keep things as they are. With change everywhere, it’s a doomed strategy. It may feel safe to protect proven strategies, but those strategies were proven for a different environment. Reality changed beneath their feet. The world has changed the way you communicate with customers, the way you recruit employees, the outputs others value, your competitive differentiation, how you’re scrutinized by the public.. the list goes on. The rules are very, very different.

If that’s not enough to stimulate an examination of your approach, think about this: Whether you go down this route or not, some staff are going to feel uncomfortable. You get to choose who. Keep your organization as it is and the people that are most uncomfortable and feel like they’re getting forced out of your organization will continue to be the ones who best see the future. The ones that want change. The ones with the ideas.

Here’s some steps to evoke the new approaches and responsive ideas that exist right within the organization:

1) State a desire for ideas and change

OK, pretty simple, but not to be overlooked. You have to announce a desire for new ideas. You have to document it in a plan. You have to write it on a wall. You have to formalize the want. The majority of your staff won’t even start down this path if it’s not even officially sanctioned.

2) Model the habit

Take some risks. Push an idea that’s right but isn’t popular. Speak truth to power. Proudly play the heretic role. It will be noticed.

3) Create a receptive environment

There’s currently a system that grinds down aberrations. It starts with managers that don’t like surprises. It also includes policies and procedures that round the corners off of everything. This is a good place for you to be a heretic.

4) Accept some unconventional ideas

By no means do I suggest that you accept loony stuff. You’re running a business; you’re pragmatic. But if there are effective solutions that will create some healthy tension and perhaps some resistance, please don’t make compromises before you roll it out. For the sake of your organization, it’s time to make a different group feel unsettled.

5) Build the idea championing capacity of your staff

If you fail on steps 1 to 4, there will still be individuals that try to instigate change. It will cost them dearly in the short term, but some are going to do it anyway. You could have more of those. The best I can suggest to start them on this journey is to give them leadership training. Help them to examine their beliefs and challenge them to change the ones that need to be changed. If they can do it for themselves, they might start doing it for you.

By the way, I don’t see this as an a la carte menu. They all need to be done. If you want change, it’s full scale or it’s just something to prove you tried.

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