Proceed Until Apprehended

A recent post of mine was about the library, of which I’m a huge fan and user. I’m passionate about the museum, too, but it’s a different kind of love. I don’t particularly like going there, I just like what it represents and what it could be.

I work directly across from our Provincial museum, the Royal Saskatchewan Museum (RSM), and right next door to their annex. They house three collections, a biological collection, a paleontological collection and an Aboriginal artifacts collection. I’ve had the opportunity to tour through the annex, which is not open to the public. It’s more interesting than the museum itself by a factor of ten.

I think this goes for many museums, but I’m picking on the RSM. The museum is, unfortunately, much too static. This is because of money, of course, but it also seems to be because they’re presenting a history of Saskatchewan through mostly physical artifacts, and those don’t change over time. Once you’ve tweaked your presentation, you’re largely into preservation, right?

As you might guess, I don’t agree. I think the RSM should be all about the interpretation. This shouldn’t be too much of a stretch. The tour guides are called interpreters, after all.

Right now, the museum presents the facts, and just the facts. By “interpretation,” I mean that the museum should be in the business of helping me understand what all the history and the worldview they present means for me right now.

The museum offers a picture of reality that is not warped or diluted by other noise. It’s a view of our world that hasn’t been overly polished, manufactured or “defined” by someone else. It’s contact with a reality you can really trust, and that’s exceeding rare in our lives… check that… the lives of people like me, living in the city and going to work each day.

The museum says: These are the environmental regions of our province. This is the bedrock beneath our feet. These creatures once roamed our land. These creatures now roam our land. These people and these cultures defined this province. This vegetation naturally covers our landscape… When I spend all my time outside on paved roads and my indoor time in the air-conditioned comfort in front of a screen, these things can be forgotten.

Somewhere along the way, museums defined their role as protectors of history. They are preservationists to the point that most of the collections are hidden away from public view. The mandate of a museum ends up being, “We protect things that are irreplaceable.”

I think there’s a relevance problem here. Museums need to be challenged to make these collections and this ”real” look at our world relevant to the public. The museum I dream of would be dedicated to helping others understand the world, past and present, so they can make better choices for their future.

Leadership is often understood to be “principle-centred.” You figure out what’s important to you and then you stick to that path. You establish the path that’s integral to you, and even when distractions try and pull you from it, you know what’s important. I see the museum offering a reality-centre. It can be trusted. It can help you buildi an understanding of yourself and your world, offering a solid foundation from which you can develop principles that govern your behaviour. The museum offers an excellent foundation for leadership.

The museum offers bedrock in more ways than one, but we need help using it. It’s not enough just to be there.

Museum, thank you for helping me understand the past, and thank you for helping me understand the present. Please help me plot a path for the future that is grounded in reality.

At the moment, there’s limited transition between “What we know to be true,” and “What we should do now.” I’m inspired by the Human Factors exhibit at the RSM, which connects our human influence to the world’s current state, but it only implicitly invites a tough self-examination. For most, the principles at the centre of their behaviour are  left untouched after a museum visit.

I’d like to see the museum:

• provide examples of leaders who stuck to reality, even when it made them appear unreasonable
• ask me to make a personal commitment to respond to something I learned today
• organize our community to take action on important issues that are largely ignored
• reach out and engage the community in interpreting current events through a scientific and historical lense
• offer orientation for public servants and any organization that’s committed to Saskatchewan
• lead a movement of choice and change based on a trusted understanding of the world
• when I’m physically in the building, engage me in a dialogue. Pull scientists from the back room and focus on engaging with the public.

I’m sure this is easier said than done. There’s undoubtedly a laundry list of items and infrastructure that just need maintenance. Here’s my tradeoff: I’m OK with seeing historical artifacts suffer damage if it means people’s future decisions are more thoughtful, deliberate and grounded in reality. I say that, but I don’t think it would get that far. In truth, becoming more relevant is the first and most important step in getting more funding.

Have you ever been intensely frustrated with a work team that doesn’t seem to get it? It may be that the roles are ill-defined, the processes are haphazard and inefficient or there is simply no purpose to align efforts. Forget about “systems thinking,” these teams are organized for knee-jerk reactions. When an issue comes up, watch the thrashing that ensues. Ultimately, the team isn’t getting to any results.

If you’re seeing this, what’s the right response? If we look around us, it’s clear that one of the most common responses is to wait it out for a bit and see if things get better.

Seriously, have any of these things ever gotten better on their own?

More likely – actually, always – this results in a continued ineffective organization. The problems remain undefined, the potential solutions go unexamined and those that are propagating the problems continue their path unabated.

Wishfully thinking the mess will resolve itself is not a realistic strategy. It’s a defense mechanism that keeps you from taking emotional risk. It keeps you safe on the sidelines, smug in your knowledge that it sucks.

But that’s OK. Fair enough. If you don’t want to get in the fray, I think that’s your right. However, this strategy should not be accompanied with your continued frustration with the situation. You don’t get that right. If you are choosing to quietly wait for someone else to lead the way out, you’re making a decision to also endure it until it gets better. You’ve gotta pay that price. By the way, it’s your burden, and yours alone. You don’t need to unload it on an unsuspecting confidant so you can temporarily feel better. Sit with it. Stew on it. Maybe, if it becomes uncomfortable enough, you’ll realize you shouldn’t just wait it out.

If only the wishful thinker would propose a solution, the benefits are tremendous.

• You focus a conversation on a problem that others haven’t seen, or at least have been afraid to acknowledge. Groupthink can drive a wedge between a committee and reality. Diverse perspectives can bring a committee back.
• You introduce an alternative path. This often defines the parameters of future conversations. Everybody gets busy supporting or fighting your plan… others aren’t even considered.
• You make a statement about what kind of participant you are. You are one that bring solutions, not problems. That puts you in a special, rare category.

The cost for all this? Well, as Ghandi said, “First they ignore you, then they ridicule you, then they fight you, then you win.” On the first attempt, in all likelihood, they ignore you. Perhaps you’ll be so fortunate as to get some eye-rolls or scoffs. They at least heard your point. If you keep it up, you’ll have the success of your audience sitting up ramrod straight and telling you all the reasons it can’t be done. That’s when you’ve got them right where you want them. With persistence, I believe you can make a difference.

More plainly, the cost is how it makes you feel. It’s not particularly comfortable in the moment. It’s just right. That’s integrity, and it has the ability to make you feel unsettled and at peace in the same moment.

I’m in a pretty timid organization, a bureaucracy where having eye-to-eye conversations about real issues is to be avoided at all costs. I would LOVE to have more ridicule and more fighting of my ideas. As it stands, I’m pretty sure I could propose the purchase of a beaver to sharpen our pencils and I wouldn’t get a response. You know what, though? I feel a lot better pushing for what’s right and getting nowhere than remaining silent and by default becoming a supporter of what’s wrong.

The Internet is such a firehose. The information comes fast. The marketing comes fast. The new ideas, the new products, the next thing… fast, fast, fast.

I find myself getting pretty frustrated with the skimming it induces. A full night of superficial snippets can leave me with a lot of trivia and nothing of substance. I find it more important than ever to make sure I pull away from the bells and whistles every once in a while and actually go deep, immersing myself in something that engages my brain.  Deliberately exploring a topic to a new level of understanding makes a lot more meaning for me than the skim.

In fact, if we were to collect all the things we hear and see each day and somehow conduct an audit to figure out what actually made it into our brain, we’d realize we can do without a lot of the barrage that occupies us.

So, why do we often choose to consume so much at a superficial level? I think it’s because choosing to actively ignore information that’s coming at you is like the problem with not buying a  lottery ticket. How can you possibly not buy a ticket? This may be THE ONE.  What if this ticket is the one that makes you rich? What if that next phone call is the President? What if the next big Internet sensation needs my investment immediately? What if a once in a lifetime announcement is just around the corner? All that hope, all those what-ifs… they cause a lot of attention to be directed to areas that rarely, if ever, have a payoff.

Here’s why some can do without lottery tickets: They get the math. They understand that one in 14,000,000 means you’ll typically spend $14,000,000 on tickets before you hit THE ONE. There’s an equivalent logic for understanding the information barrage, too. It may be less tangible, but intuitively, we know it’s there. If you step away from the constant flow and deliberately pursue and immerse yourself in what you want to see, you get more, you learn more. It’s more relevant. It’s more applicable to your life because you have selected, not received.

We’re now in a world where it’s easier for each of us to be our own program director. There’s unlimited information. It’s accessible at the click of a button. It comes on our time and on our terms.

It’s time to break an old habit – technology now allows you near complete control of the firehose. Don’t let others choose the messages for you.

I’ve been a sellout many times in my life. For definition, let’s say that sellouts are when you apply your ability and talent to something that isn’t for your purpose in life, it’s for somebody else’s. The theory of the sellout is that they happen because selling out is practical, it’s prudent and it seems like a good, secure, long-term choice. However, they’re called sellouts because they go against your very fibre. You give up (sell) a piece of your soul for comfort. You pursue someone else’s interest in return for compensation.

I’d like to take a look at some of my sellouts, in the order that they have happened:

* I trusted the educational system with too much of my maturation and development of knowledge and pursued all manner of academic success in highschool. I devoted excessive time that could have been spent pursuing my own interests to learning how to differentiate between chemical oxidation and reduction, a sonnet and iambic pentameter and a circle’s radius versus its diameter.
* I chose to take Commerce (business school) in University, not because of some overwhelming passion for business, but because it was the path to secure, well-paid employment.
* I accepted positions of employment because of title and pay, not because of my personal affinity for the topic.
* I engaged, interacted and gave respect to undeserving individuals who held influence. I shared ideas not for innovation and effectiveness, but to impress.

A couple of weak defenses of my actions might help me feel better here. First is the fact that this is what I was advised to do. I followed the path that was laid out for me. That’s weak, because I was sentient when all these sellouts took place. I always had a choice… I just didn’t acknowledge it. My second defense – I could have done more selling out, or I could have done it for an entire career. I think it could easily be argued that I continue to sell out, but I’m happy to say I’ve recognized it and am taking steps to repair the damage.

The damage, however, is quite interesting and hard to repair. To start with, sellouts aren’t exactly natural, so they’re hard to sustain. When we’re doing something contrary to our being routinely each day, we’re ultimately stealing days we won’t get back that could be happier. That’s a hard pill to swallow.

There’s the damage of how being a sellout seems to tie our hands, too. It comes in the shape of established levels of comfort and expectation that are extremely hard to dismiss. They come in the form of a mortgage that was accepted in headier times and a lifestyle best described as a hedonic treadmill.

The damage is a reluctance to try new things, to depart from this game’s “winning strategy” even as the rules of the game are changing.

The damage is a fear of the actions that could address our mistakes but haven’t received acceptance from family, parents, peers, friends, teachers or bosses.

The damage is the fear of ending up living in a van down by the river.

All that is strong, but it doesn’t quite overpower the knowledge that there are ways to add value and be true to your passion. Even when all the comforts of being a sellout are calling me to stop, relax and be enveloped in their charms, I can’t help but remember that those sellout actions aren’t my agenda. They’re just the choices I’ve made.

I guess I’m saying that the one thing more powerful than all the comforts of the life of the sellout is the peace that comes with pursuing my own agenda.

Where does innovation come from? I think we’ve all been in a few meetings where “youth” is the answer. If you’re like me, you’ve also heard “new employees,” regardless of age. I don’t think I’ve yet heard “those close to retirement,” but it wouldn’t surprise me.

To be honest, I always kind of dread these discussions. It’s not that I don’t want to be part of a discussion about innovation; it’s that the perception of where innovation comes from feels quite tired and unexamined.

I want to take a peek at the source of innovation, the person. I do think a lot of innovation can come from youth. A different education, a constant immersion in a media-rich environment and a fresh introduction to the workplace is bound to give this cohort a number of “why is it done this way?” kind of moments.

Likewise, new public service employees enter an organization either with the “youth” lens or with the lens of someone who has been working in a different kind of structure. They may simply bring different approaches, or they may have that same sort of questioning “why?” moment.

Both of these groups bring something valuable to the table – a different perspective. They offer a shock to our current thinking. They haven’t been indoctrinated into the rules, structures and dogma that govern the way we do our jobs.

I don’t think, however, that innovative ideas come from a certain age or a certain set of experiences. Primarily, I think new ideas come from your worldview. Worldview is a nice all-encompassing word to describe how you see the world. It’s your description of reality. Perhaps another way to say it is that our worldview is the collection of conclusions we bring with us based on what we’ve seen.

As you can imagine, everyone’s worldview is different. You can be trusting or less trusting, more open to risk or less. You can believe in the power of a god and you can believe in the power of the state. You can think that social media is the end of community or a new beginning. When somebody believes in grassroots organization and somebody else believes in corporate benevolence, those different worldviews bring different/new/innovative solutions to addressing public issues. These differences create distinct approaches and different solutions to challenges.

The nature of most organizations is to build consistency and uniformity into everything, including how we think. The organization works hard to keep everything static and in control. Maybe you’re still having innovative ideas, but the typical response and reaction within the walls of the organization to new thinking makes it difficult to express those ideas (and continue expressing them).

What youth and new employees can bring is a distinct worldview that hasn’t yet been critically transformed. Eventually, most employees resolve themselves to a worldview that includes something like, “At work, it’s easier to follow the rules than to examine them.” Until that defeatist language is added to the worldview, some profound things are liable to slip out.

Accessing individuals who see a different reality and believe that change is attainable are key elements of innovation for me. Right now, the “low hanging fruit” are the individuals that readily bring that kind of thinking. It’s a mistake, however, to attribute that kind of thinking to a demographic cohort or a certain experience. We’re missing all the worldviews that are quietly being suppressed.

I was talking to a friend the other day and she said, “I came to government with a set of skills, abilities and passions, and none of them get used.”

Innovative ideas are there. We’re just not asking for them.

This post is actually number 102. I’m kinda proud of hitting the century mark. When I started blogging, I didn’t know how transformative this experience would be.

Because of this blog,

• I’m connecting with interesting, smart and engaged people
• I feel much more confident that my opinions have merit. I’m also confident I need to keep asking if they have merit.
• My articulation of my opinions and beliefs in the off-line world has improved – I think I’m a better writer and speaker from doing this.
• My blog provides a search-able repository of things I’ve felt strongly enough about to write down. I’m pretty sure I search my archives more than everyone else combined.
• I’m more outspoken and am being a radical truth-teller more consistently each day.

I’ve also found:

• There’s been lulls in my blogging when I feel like I just can’t do it as good as others
• There’s been increases in my blogging when I’m reading a good book.
• My best posts are written in one sitting.
• My blogging is most consistent when I remind myself that my thoughts are more helpful out than in.

Thanks for joining me. I really do appreciate it.

This is a shift that’s been going on for a while, but it’s time I call it out on my blog. You can be nice, do generous things for others and you can operate with an abundance mentality and you get more in return than ever before. I watched Conan O’Brien’s farewell speech on the Tonight Show. I was impressed, and I think he will be rewarded handsomely in the future for his authentic class and heartfelt honesty. I think there’s a few things going on that make this a new game for the Nice:

• It’s easier than ever to see and celebrate good things done by individuals
• It no longer requires large investments or big distribution to connect with individuals
• Those who want to protect the status quo have little to no control when you choose a different, more individual path
• These paths allow people to be authentic and, surprise surprise, when not going through bureaucratic filter, most people are nice

All of this is resulting in people that just get to be themselves and still create a following. Conan now has a legion of fans that will give him attention, credibility and yes, money. He won’t need a big network. If he just starts doing something, people can connect directly.

I want to follow and connect with people that are open, selfless and giving. The old system used to squeeze that out and more often than not produce closed and selfish. Now that this option is reality, it’s clear I wasn’t alone in my desire. Examples abound of success through giving. Just check my blogroll.

With a hat tip to Dan McCarthy, here’s a transcript of Conan’s speech:

“Before we bring this rodeo to a close, I think a couple things should be said.
There’s been a lot of speculation in the press about what I legally can and can’t say about NBC.
And this isn’t a joke.
To set the record straight, and this is true, tonight I’m allowed to say anything I want.
(Man laughs)
Um, and no it’s not a joke, but thanks sir. Tonight I really am allowed to say whatever I want and what I want to say is this.
Between my time at “Saturday Night Live,” “The Late Night Show,” and my brief run here on “The Tonight Show,” I’ve worked with NBC for over 20 years.
Yes, we have our differences right now, yes we’re going our separate ways, but this company has been my home for most of my adult life.
I am enormously proud of the work we’ve done together. And I want to thank NBC for making it all possible.
I really do.
(Audience applauds)
A lot of people have been asking me about my state of mind and I’ll be honest with you, walking away from “The Tonight Show” is the hardest thing I have ever had to do.
Um, making this choice has been enormously difficult. This is the best job in the world.
I absolutely love doing it and I have the best staff and crew in the history of the medium.
I will fight anybody who says I don’t, but no one would.
But despite this sense of loss, I really feel this should be a happy moment. Every comedian…every comedian dreams of hosting “The Tonight Show” and for seven months, I got to do it.
And I did it my way with people I love. I do not regret one second of anything that we’ve done here.
(Audience applause)
And yeah.
And I encounter people when I walk on the street now who are just uh who give me sort of a sad look.
I have had more fortune than anybody I know.
And if our next gig is doing a show in a 7-Eleven Parking lot we will find a way to make it fine. We really will.
I have no problems. And, I don’t want to do it on a 7-Eleven parking lot.
(Audience laughs)
But whatever, uh, finally I have something to say to our fans.
This massive outpouring of support and passion from so many people has been overwhelming for me.
The rallies, the signs, all the goofy outrageous creativity on the Internet uh, the fact that people have traveled long distances and camped out all night in the pouring rain.
(Audience cheers)
It’s pouring! It’s been pouring for days and they’re camping out to be in our audience.
Really, you…Here’s what all of you have done.
You’ve made a sad situation joyous and inspirational.
So to all the people watching I can never ever thank you enough for the kindness to me and I’ll think about it for the rest of my life.
And all I ask is one thing…and this is…I’m asking this particularly of young people that watch…please do not be cynical.
I hate cynicism. For the record, it’s my least favorite quality.
It doesn’t lead anywhere.
Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get.
But if you work really hard and you’re kind, amazing things will happen. I’m telling you. Amazing things will happen. (Audience claps) I’m telling you.
It’s just true.
As proof, let’s make something amazing happen right now. (Intro Will Ferrell)

Why do I want change so bad? Is it just for the sake of something different?

I don’t think that’s it.

I think I observe a lot of change around me and I feel like I’m living in a world that’s out of sync. Perhaps I shouldn’t say I want change. I certainly don’t want it just for it’s own sake. I want t0 put my energy into things that are adequately in tune with the reality of the situation. I could actually be pretty content without change if things were static. Hey, I like quiet, serene and unchallenging environments more than most. The world is not static, however, and it’s clearly not going to be static. I want change only because it’s the best strategy to deal with reality. I want responsiveness.

I have a little analogy to throw at you. Have you ever been caught wearing your parka on the day spring weather arrives? Worse yet, you’re wearing a light fall coat the day winter blows in. It’s actually a pretty crummy day until you can adjust. If you’ve got a few hours before you get home to your warm coat, it totally monopolizes your day. I feel like that about the things I want to change. The discomfort makes for a lingering dissonance you can’t shake. Let’s adjust to the new order. We’d all be more comfortable.

The new reality is that we’re in an age of participation. It’s easy for everyone to have a voice and to engage with the things they care about. This rule of engagement now just resides there. It’s not up for debate. Somebody else’s change made that happen. The internet, Google, social media, the end of a Baby Boomer labour era, reality has changed. I’m going to accept this reality and adjust accordingly, but I really dislike this “get it” and “don’t get it” divide. I want my face-to-face community members to join me, yet I feel the distance growing.

I can refer you to a long line of people that will tell you I’m being unreasonable. In my defense, I don’t think I’m pushing for something because it’s shiny or exciting. I just want equilibrium. To create that balance one side has to catch up…  or it’s going to be replaced.

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.