Dave Pollard's environmental philosophy, creative works, business papers and essays.
In search of a better way to live and make a living, and a better understanding of how the world really works.



April 30, 2009

Making a Living From Your Blog: A Mini-Book-Review

Filed under: Using Weblogs and Technology — Dave Pollard @ 11:55


chris guillebeau logoAs I mentioned a couple of weeks ago, citing Seth Godin’s link to it, Chris Guillebeau has written a free, downloadable manual on how to make a decent living ($50,000 per year or so) from your blog.

What’s interesting about this manual is that it tracks very closely the approach to entrepreneurship that I present in my book Finding the Sweet Spot. It even has a chart that shows, in a simplified version of my ’sweet spot’, the intersection of “things you really like to do” (what I call your Passions) and “what your followers want” (similar to what I call your Purpose, something needed in the world that you care about). Chris misses the importance of also doing what you’re competent at, and the importance of finding good partners, but he’s on the right track.

In a nutshell, he proposes this process:

  1. Have a well-designed blog that tells an interesting, useful, consistent story and builds readership over several months to a few years, with free content. It should clearly and continuously answer the question “Why should I regularly visit this blog?”
  2. Identify which of your followers (readers, potential customers) is your real audience — the subset who appreciate your ideas and competencies enough be willing to pay a small amount of money to get something of value from you. This may be a very different group from those who comment on your posts.
  3. Ask this audience what they want and find a way to give it to them. Use SurveyMonkey Pro or some similar tool to ask them why they visit and what they’re most looking for help with.
  4. Avoid traditional advertising (AdSense etc.) and traditional ‘mass’ marketing approaches — they don’t work.
  5. Write something substantial (1000-3000 words) regularly — at least twice a week — on one or a few related themes that will make your blog a regular destination for your audience. Whatever your frequency, get into the habit of writing at least 1000 words per day. Pace yourself, make it good stuff, and have the ambition and intention that this become a true business, not just a hobby.
  6. Be prepared to put in many hours writing your blog posts and products, and an equal amount of time in one-on-one marketing to increase visibility and readership of your blog (e.g. posting good ideas on Twitter, sending out review copies of your products, writing regular guest posts for A-list bloggers, answering all e-mails, letting people subscribe to your blog by e-mail, including sending e-mail subscribers special articles that don’t appear on your blog, building relationships with journalists and other key ‘linkers’ of all kinds). Say thank you for the links you get. You have to get the word out about what you do and why it’s unique and valuable — don’t expect people to discover you by word of mouth.
  7. Gradually and carefully (i.e. use an effective product launch process) introduce additional value-added online products (detailed guides, webinars, projects, consulting, teaching etc.) that build on what you write about on your blog, products for which you charge a sum that increases as your audience and reputation grow. Use e-junkie with your PayPal account to make it easy for people to pay you online. Study what other commercially successful bloggers have done (Chris lists a dozen or more). Be prepared to weather the inevitable critics who don’t like anyone charging for their online work.

For me, point #6 is the biggie. Chris says your blog needs to be essentially a full-time job, a quality, commercial product that you work at. No writing whimsical stuff that’s off-topic. No skipping a week because you’re uninspired. To me my blog is recreational, and for me to work that hard at it would take much of the joy and spontaneity out of blogging. I’m not sure I’m ready for that, but it’s worth thinking about.

But I think Chris is right — if I really wanted to make money from my blog, I’d have to prioritize my topics and my time and get down to business. I’d have to learn to write what my (potentially paying) customers want me to write about, not what I want to write about.

My favourite quote from Chris’ manual is from Oscar Wilde: “Be yourself, because everybody else is already taken”. That’s great advice for bloggers, whether they’re trying to make money from their blogs or not. We all need to find and speak in our own ‘voice’.

Thanks to Chris for this compact, thoughtful, well-researched and useful work.

Category: Blogging Advice

April 29, 2009

Ordeal’s End: A Shaggy Dog Story, and Some Unthinkable Thoughts on Dying

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 18:30


walk beach
Beach in Esperance, Westerm Australia, where I wrote this blog post – thanks to Cheryl for the photo

Yesterday we visited another of the spectacular white sand, turquoise water beaches in Esperance, on the southwest coast of Australia. We took along a picnic lunch and had Cheryl’s dog, Marlo, and the two dogs that live in the house Cheryl is house-sitting, Cassie and Mattie, in tow. Cassie and Marlo are both young, but Mattie, a husky cross (or what the neighbour’s girls delightedly call “snow dog!”) is old and arthritic. Mattie needs to be coached up the ramp into the back of Cheryl’s station wagon. When we go for walks, Cassie and Marlo vie for the front position, while Mattie usually lags behind.

So I was a bit concerned when I discovered the stairs down to this particular beach were steep and numerous. I was concerned that Mattie would find the climb back up too onerous. Once we’d settled into our beach picnic spot, therefore, while Cheryl went swimming in the transparent shallow water, I wandered off in search of a more gradual track back up to the car. What I found was a sand dune that sloped sharply up to the road, but by the time I had reached the top of the steep climb I was really puffing. Nevertheless, I thought it might be easier for Mattie to navigate than the steps would be, so when it was time to go, despite Cheryl’s skepticism at the sight of this steep climb, we started up the trail.

To my astonishment, Mattie, the dog always at the back of our ‘pack’, positively bounded up the incline, looking very much like the lead husky of a dog-sled team on its way to winning the Iditerod. Non-stop, with an energy I didn’t think was in her, she charged up the hill, sand flying like snow in all directions in her wake, leaving us, and the other two dogs, panting and gasping far behind. When we rounded the corner to the top of the dune, Mattie was standing there triumphant, looking back at us with what appeared to be a mixture of concern and impatience. She was in her element, the alpha dog unchallenged for this remarkable achievement. For her, I’m sure, this was a moment of pure joy, perhaps recalling a memory of her youth, of play, of strength, of living life to its fullest.

A few minutes later, as I hoisted her up into the car, she became again “old Mattie”, the dog struggling to keep up, sight and hearing failing, the dog not entirely sure each morning, as she was roused for the morning walk, if going on was more trouble than it was worth. The dog whose face was at once proud and anxious, her gait weary and unsteady but still marked by a husky’s characteristic high step and graceful rabbit-like bound.

This incident got me thinking about how we begin to behave as we get older, each of us in our own way coping with the anxieties of growing slower and finding it a bit harder to keep up each day, a bit harder to deal with the increasing ailments, accidents, aches and challenges life throws at us.

My whole life has been an exercise in trying, stressfully, to stay in control. I am far from self-sufficient — a non-swimmer, non-hunter, non-gardener, non-builder, non-repairer of things broken. In the wilderness I love and yearn for, if I were left without resources, I would be lost, starved, poisoned, eaten or dead from exposure in days.

My dream is to live simply, as sustainably as possible, but not self-sufficiently. I’m quite prepared to walk or bicycle to the store to buy the organic, local foods and other necessities of life I cannot produce myself, and to hire local people to build or fix what I cannot. I hope to learn, of course, but I’m resolved to live with the inevitable anxieties of knowing I will always be, to some extent, dependent on my retirement savings and on the assistance of others more competent than I at the basic business of living. This is one of the reasons I like the idea of living in community with like minds — provided it isn’t too stressful or too much work. I am in every sense a child of the 1960s — many would say a spoiled, idealistic hippie who never quite grew up.

Stress, or more precisely my incapacity to cope with stress, has been the hallmark of much of my life. It is almost surely the cause of the anxiety and depression that ruled my emotional state for much of my youth and early adulthood, and almost surely the cause of the agonizing ulcerative colitis attack that so afflicted me in 2006 that I kept hoping each night I would die and not have to face the next day. Since that time I have done everything in my power to increase my resilience to stress and its consequences — switching to a more routine and easy job, finding a better diet, maintaining a regular exercise regimen, and a year later conceding an end to a marriage that had become, for both of us, more stress and trouble than it was worth.

In this I did succeed in reducing the amount of stress in my life. I have come to really enjoy my simpler life, where I really don’t have to do anything I don’t want to do. I’ve been looking forward to retirement, which will allow me to be even lazier and more self-indulgent in my activities and my pace of life, and to further escape from life’s stresses. What I’ve discovered, however, is that now when stressful events do occur (minor hassles at work, concern about my father, or any minor setback or disturbance in my life), I’m now even less resilient at coping with them, perhaps because I’m less practiced at it. My ideal life of waking when I feel like it, going for a walk in a nearby forest or on a nearby beach, writing, learning, playing, reflecting, having conversations and collaborations with intelligent, imaginative, sensitive people in my intentional communities (real and virtual) or the outer communities surrounding them, sharing meals of raw, vegetarian, organic foods simply prepared with people I love, in some warm, peaceful, uncrowded place — all seems to be more elusive than ever, a pipedream.

My father told me not too long ago that if he felt his life was nearing its useful end he would want to do what wild animals do, and just walk away into some sheltered , hidden place where he could just die in peace, without interference from anyone. Like me, he has always tried to be in control of his life, never willing to just let go. I sense that, like me, in those instances when he has let go, he has usually had cause to regret it.

Yet now, he seems to have found a way to let go, at least a little. I think that’s more a result of necessity than conscious choice — he just doesn’t have the energy anymore to consider and worry about all the things that might occur, that could go wrong. Perhaps this is nature’s way of forcing us to let go, at last, we alphas who have always tried to control our lives and those of the people and creatures we love.

chemistry of love

Happiness for me has always been the relative absence of stress, worry, doubt, anxiety, and grief. I’ve found it, at least temporarily, in two ways:

  • The early stage of falling in love, with its powerful chemical cocktail of feel-good emotions, gives you, for a time, a feeling of invulnerability, but it soon yields to mature-stage love, driven by the endorphins of attachment and responsibility, with all the anxieties that come with them. 
  • Practices of peacefulness — meditation and other relaxation techniques, and surrounding yourself with peaceful things, people and places. This is what my ideal life scenario above aspires to, but in today’s crowded, crisis-ridden world, it is almost impossible to find and perhaps totally impossible to sustain. It’s what I am referring to when I describe perceiving myself as just “the space through which stuff passes“, being “in the moment”, in “Now Time”. There have been some studies that suggest that wild creatures spend most of their lives in this state, except for the rare (though increasing, thanks to human encroachment on their habitats) moments of stress that pull them quickly into the Time we humans live in nearly all the time — the fight or flight, Anxious Time. 

This Anxious Time in which most of us live, always, in this modern civilized world, is a continuous, lifelong ordeal. When you live most of your life in this state, the world becomes a prison, an asylum. It is no wonder that so many of us, especially in affluent nations, are dying in epidemic numbers from chronic diseases that are caused by man-made environmental toxins and triggered by man-made stress, and which are shredding our natural immune systems.

I think, as we grow older, we begin to lose the capacity to function in Anxious Time, and start to let go, to give up, for better and for worse. We start to long for the end of the Ordeal that a life in Anxious Time represents. I know quite a few people who are retired, but their anxieties have not gone away, and now in addition to the psychological and financial anxieties, the Anxieties of Knowing How the World Really Works, they face the daily physical anxieties of pain, fear of accident, chronic illness, and grief for loved ones dead or wasting away in the twilight world of nursing homes and intensive care institutions. The brief paroles from the Anxious Time prison of civilization culture — like the ones we experience when we fall in love, or, when we, like Mattie, rediscover a strength, a power we had forgotten we had — become rarer and briefer. And finally we just give up and let go; it all becomes more trouble than it’s worth. Perhaps this is the reason for the epidemic of dementias (from the Latin word meaning “out of one’s mind”) that plague so many of us in our declining years — perhaps it’s just a last desperate way to escape from the Ordeal.

I think we need a theory of all this, one that will help us deal with the coming surge of boomers retiring only to find that retirement offers them no respite from the Ordeal that their lives have become (especially as nursing homes fill to overflowing, dementias skyrocket, health care becomes utterly unaffordable and the desperate shortage of general and senior care practitioners continues to worsen), and offers no gracious and peaceful escape from a life in Anxious Time. This coming surge of out-of-our-mind, miserable, unaffordable, unmanageable, chronically-ill boomers is perhaps as much a threat to our world as the End of Oil and climate change.

Like Mattie, each of us, aging every day, probably has a few final heroic moments ahead of us, times that give us respite and joy and belief that the struggle is and always has been worth it. I know I’m looking forward to mine, and I’m prepared to keep falling in love and practicing just being a space through which stuff passes, as long as I can do so without being too much of a burden on our fragile, overcrowded world. Besides, there is still much work to do, and if we don’t do it, who will?

But then what? What will become of us, if we have nowhere to go, no graceful, peaceful process for ending our lives in a dignified and painless way, while there is still enough joy and meaning in our lives to exit life in style? Will we wait until the Ordeal’s End for a billion boomers becomes yet another crisis we postponed dealing with far too long, until we all become its victims?

April 25, 2009

An Unschooling Manifesto

Filed under: How the World Really Works — Dave Pollard @ 09:01


kelvin high school
a photo of my high school, c. 1969

In Grade 11, my second last year of high school, I was an average student, with marks in English in the mid 60% range, and in mathematics, my best subject, around 80%. Aptitude tests suggested I should be doing better, and this was a consistent message on my report cards. I hated school. As my blog bio explains, I was shy, socially inept, uncoordinated and self-conscious. My idea of fun was playing strategy games (Diplomacy and Acquire, for fellow geeks of that era — this was long before computer games or the Internet) and hanging around the drive-in restaurant.

Then in Grade 12, something remarkable happened: My school decided to pilot a program called “independent study”, that allowed any student maintaining at least an 80% average on term tests in any subject (that was an achievement in those days, when a C — 60% — really was the average grade given) to skip classes in that subject until/unless their grades fell below that threshold. There was a core group of ‘brainy’ students who enrolled immediately. Half of them were the usual boring group (the ‘keeners’) who did nothing but study to maintain high grades (usually at their parents’ behest); but the other half were creative, curious, independent thinkers with a natural talent for learning. The chance to spend my days with this latter group, unrestricted by school walls and school schedules, was what I dreamed of, so I poured my energies into self-study.

To the astonishment of everyone, including myself, I did very well at this. By the end of the first month of school my average was almost 90%, and I was exempted from attending classes in all my subjects. I’d become friends with some members of the ‘clique’ I had aspired to join, and discovered that, together, we could easily cover the curriculum in less than an hour a day, leaving the rest of the day to discuss philosophy, politics, anthropology, history and geography of the third world, contemporary European literature, art, the philosophy of science, and other subjects not on the school curriculum at all. We went to museums, attended seminars, wrote stories and poetry together (and critiqued each others’ work).

As the year progressed, the ‘keeners’, to my amazement, found they were struggling with this independence and opted back into the regular structured classroom program. Now our independent study group was a remarkable group of non-conformists, whose marks — on tests we didn’t attend classes for or study for — were so high that some wondered aloud if we were somehow cheating. My grades had climbed into the low 90% range, and this included English where such marks were rare — especially for someone whose grades had soared almost 30 points in a few months of ‘independent’ study. The fact is that my peers had done what no English teacher had been able to do — inspire me to read and write voraciously, and show me how my writing could be improved. My writing, at best marginal six months earlier, was being published in the school literary journal. On one occasion, a poem of mine I read aloud in class (one of the few occasions I actually attended a class that year) produced a spontaneous ovation from my classmates. 

The Grade 12 final examinations in those days were set and marked by a province-wide board, so universities could judge who the best students were without having to consider differences between schools. Our independent study group, a handful of students from just one high school, won most of the province-wide scholarships that year. I received the award for the highest combined score in English and Mathematics in the province — an almost unheard-of 94%.

The experience spoiled me for university — I graduated in two years, which was all I could bear, by taking extra courses and summer courses, just to get through it. And the independent study program, despite its extraordinary success, was not repeated in subsequent years. Part of the justification for the pilot program had been to free up teachers’ time to spend with students who needed more individual attention; yet the dubious reason we were given for its cancellation was that “it was unfair to deprive the average students of the presence and example of the more outstanding students”.

All this is by way of introduction to my thoughts on PS Pirro’s excellent new book on Unschooling, which is in effect what my belated “independent study” experience was an example of. Here’s an excerpt to give you a flavour of the book:

The world of the classroom is so unlike anything the real world has to offer – with the exception of other classrooms – that kids can excel at school only to find themselves utterly lost in the real world. Some people think this is the result of failed schooling, but a few of us suspect otherwise. We suspect that this sense of displacement and confusion is actually the result of schooling that succeeds in its most basic unwritten objective: to keep you dependent, timid, worried, nervous, compliant, and afraid of the World.  To keep you waiting. To keep you manageable. To keep you helpless. To keep you small.

Educated, confident, creative people are dangerous to the status quo, dangerous to a centralized economy, dangerous to a centralized system of command and control. Those in power don’t want you educated. They want you schooled.
 
It is not up to teachers or school administrators to figure out what you should be or do. It’s not up to the State, it’s not up to your guidance counselors. It’s not up to your parents. What you do with your life ought to be up to you. What you learn ought to be up to you.  How you navigate the world and create your place in it ought to be your decision. Your life belongs to you.  School does its best to disabuse you of this notion. Unschooling celebrates it. Unschooling puts the responsibility for creating a satisfying life squarely where it belongs: in the hands of the one living it.

PS presents 50 reasons why schooling is, in every imaginable way, bad for us and our society, and then 50 reasons why unschooling, which she defines as “learning without formal curriculum, timelines, grades or coercion; learning in freedom” is the natural way to learn. She argues that we are indoctrinated from the age of five to cede our time, our freedoms, and what we pay attention to, to the will of the State, so that we are ‘prepared’ for a work world of wage slavery and obedience to authority. We are deliberately not taught anything that would allow us to be self-sufficient in society. And in the factory environment of the school, where teachers need to ‘manage’ thirty students or more, ethics and the politics of power is left up, from our earliest and most vulnerable years, to the bullies and other young damaged psychopaths among our peers, to teach us in their grotesquely warped way. As PS explains, it is in every way a prison system.

Unschooling, by contrast, starts with the realization that you ‘own’ your time, and have the opportunity and responsibility to use it in ways that are meaningful and stimulating for you. When you have this opportunity, you just naturally learn a great deal, about things you care about, things that will inevitably be useful to you in making a life and a living. Your learning environment is the whole world, and you learn what and when you want, undirected by curricula, textbooks, alarm clocks and school bells. You develop deep peer relationships around areas of common interest, once you’re allowed to explore and discover what those areas of interest are. And the Internet and online gaming allow you to make those relationships anywhere in the world, to draw on the brightest experts on the planet, and to communicate powerfully with like-minded, curious people of every age, culture and ideology.

Many people argue that unschooling will only work for the very brightest and most self-disciplined children. On the contrary, I think we are all perfectly suited to unschooling until the school system begins to beat the love of learning, the ability to self-manage, curiosity, imagination and critical thinking out of us. By the time we have reached the third grade it becomes much more difficult, and my success in unschooling in twelfth grade was, I will agree, due to my above-average intelligence and initiative — most of my intellectually-crippled peers just couldn’t manage by that time without the strictures they’d become accustomed to. They had long ago lost the desire to learn, and to think for themselves.

If every child was unschooled — given the chance to explore and discover and learn in the real world what they love to do, what they’re uniquely good at doing, and what the world needs that they care about — then we would have a world of self-confident, creative, informed, empowered, networked entrepreneurs doing work that needs to be done, successfully. We would have armies of people collaborating to solve the problems and crises facing our world, instead of going home exhausted at the end of the day seeking escape, feeling helpless to do anything that is meaningful to thems or to the world. We would have a world of producers instead of consumers, a world of abundance instead of scarcity, a world of diversity instead of what Terry Glavin calls “a dark and gathering sameness”. We would have a world of young people choosing their lives instead of taking what they can get, what they can afford, what is offered to them. We would have a world of people who are nobody-but-themselves, and who know who they are, and how to live and make a living for themselves.

In the final part of her book, PS encourages us to check out unschooling gatherings in our own area, and find out more, find out what we can do to grow this important movement. She describes some of the groups that are organizing travel adventures to enrich unschoolers’ experiences even further, and provides a host of resources for further reading and exploration of the unschooling movement.

I’m growing increasingly convinced that if we have any hope of coping with the crises that we face in this century, it lies in the generations now in the “school system”.

More precisely, it lies in getting them out of that system, and making this the last generation of “schooled children”.

Given the damage we’ve done to the world — due in no small part to the “education system” that has molded us — damage that future generations must reverse, it’s the least we can do for them, and, at last, for ourselves.

April 23, 2009

The Trouble with Scenarios

Filed under: Working Smarter — Dave Pollard @ 05:14


scenario planning dave snowdenA couple of years ago (Dec. 7, 2006), I wrote a review of Peter Schwartz’s 1989 book The Art of the Long View, which outlined an approach to scenario planning and then presented three scenarios looking forward to 2005 using that approach. Here’s my synopsis, from that review, of how those scenarios missed the mark, and why:

Back in 1989, when The Art of the Long View was written, Schwartz (with Stewart Brand, Howard Rheingold and others) produced three scenarios for the year 2005 that they called Global Incoherence, New Empires, and Market World. These make fascinating reading, coming as they did before the dot-com boom and bust, before social networking, and before 9/11. The scenarios greatly overestimated our willingness and ability to do anything about global warming and the environment in general. They also overestimated the impact of new technology on society, the amount of change that the ‘information economy’ would bring about, the impact of then-teenage Gen X’ers (and the trend to cultural homogeneity in general) and the degree of innovation in business and the media. It underestimated the degree of political upheaval, cultural clashes, genocide and war that have turned out to be the hallmarks of the 1990s and 2000s. It incorrectly foresaw the “replacement of political ideology with pragmatism” as a result of “a world weary of war”. The End of Oil is contemplated but discounted as highly improbable. And while interactive TV is contemplated, there is no mention of anything like what we now call the Internet.

The fault of these scenarios, and of most attempts at imagining alternative futures, is the human tendency to assume the future will be like the present, only more so. Those of us who say this will be the final century of human civilization produce raised eyebrows because the majority cannot conceive of a significant discontinuity between what has happened in the past, what is happening right now, and what is to come. When sudden discontinuous reversals occur (the fall of the Soviet Union, the dot com bust etc.), our tendency is to discount them entirely as unsustainable anomalies and do our political and economic prognosticating as if neither the rise nor the fall had ever happened. When other unexpected discontinuous events occur (9/11, Katrina), our tendency is to exaggerate their significance, to ignore our learnings from everything that happened before them, and to start predicting more of the same, mentally creating new continuities to replace the ones we have lost. That’s just the way we are.

More recently (Nov. 19, 2007), I reviewed Michael Raynor’s book The Strategy Paradox, which recommends using scenario planning to manage strategic uncertainty (keep doors open and be aware of and ready to commit to various alternatives as they emerge), to create strategic options (make small risk-conscious strategic investments, each of which will pay off big if that scenario plays out), and to get operating divisions to commit fully to certain short-term strategies (by giving them sufficient resources and indemnifying them from blame if the scenario their efforts are predicated upon does not play out). The idea is that competitive advantage will accrue not to the companies that assume the status quo will continue unchanged (because change is inevitable), but rather to those that take strategic risks across of a whole range of plausible future scenarios.

I’m working currently on a project with Michael to envision and think about a range of options for the 2010-2014 period, that businesses can use to anticipate and prepare for discontinuous risks and opportunities that they might otherwise not consider.

Last week my friend Dave Snowden chimed in with a post on scenario planning in complex environments. In an earlier article, he had proposed three important principles for managing organizations in these new environments:

  • Distributed Cognition: using the capacity of diverse networks to contribute to decision making
  • Granularity: small things (blogs, anecdotes, crews) are more adaptable and hence useful than large things (books, treatises, organizations)
  • Disintermediation: eliminating layers that separate unfiltered information from decision-makers, to improve context and opportunity for important pattern-recognition

As Euan Semple has pointed out, these are aspects of organizations that can be effectively managed — using and encouraging networks, increasing the granularity of information and organizational structures, and disintermediation, are all things that management can actually do, that will improve work effectiveness and enhance decision-making.

In his latest article, Dave says that scenario planning is designed for complicated environments (where one can reasonably anticipate all possible future outcomes) not complex environments (where prediction is substantially impossible). He summarizes the basic scenario planning approach (his diagram is shown above): brainstorm future possibilities; cluster them into a framework; produce a full narrative for a few plausible scenarios at the ‘corners’ of the framework; monitor to detect whether these scenarios are coming true. And, of course, decide what you would/will do if each scenario does appear to be coming true. In my work with Michael, our framework is based on the predominant economic outcomes (positive or negative) and the degree of economic volatility, to create four ‘extreme’ but plausible future economic scenarios; our assumption is that the actual economic future will be somewhere within the bounds of these four scenarios.

Some of the dangers with scenario planning that Dave identifies:

  • empirically, it has been shown to expand employee thinking about possible future events, but not to improve resultant decision-making
  • the risk of premature convergence on one intriguing idea or well-articulated framework, with most of the brainstormers not thinking critically or creatively about other possibilities
  • insufficient consideration of unlikely, discontinuous and unforeseen events (”black swans”) that, if they did occur, would have extraordinary consequences
  • failure to look at events outside the business environment (e.g. external political events, resource constraints, changes in suppliers) that could nevertheless significantly affect the business
  • lack of diversity in the brainstorming group (and commensurate tendency to groupthink)

Dave argues that instead of trying to anticipate (predict), organizations need to increase their level of “anticipatory awareness” (capacity to imagine, envision and assess how they might deal with, different futures, so that the organization is more resilient — not caught by surprise — and able to react quickly when occurrences that have at least been imagined occur).

To achieve this “anticipatory awareness” Dave suggests increasing the number of people canvassed for their ideas on future possibilities, and the number of future possibilities (”micro-scenarios”) considered, and then using techniques to assess (”signify”), index, and search for patterns in these micro-scenarios. You can see the use of his Distributed Cognition and Granularity principles in this approach. When “monitors” are put in place to early-detect symptoms of any of these micro-scenarios, managers will have a basis to continuously assess the likelihood of each of these micro-scenarios occurring, and the consequences if they were to occur, and make decisions on how to mitigate or adapt to the risks each micro-scenario presents accordingly. So, as Dave explains, even a maverick can proffer micro-scenarios that will capture management attention when the “monitors” suggest those micro-scenarios are becoming more likely — in most organizations, the mavericks with the boldest ideas and predictions tend to be filtered out by middle managers before senior executives hear of them.

After reading Dave’s article, Vera B, one of my readers, commented:

Heh. Looking at [Dave's article], it occurs to me there are two kinds of complex systems: Those that manage themselves, as a forest, and those that must be managed by humans, just a few steps away from falling apart. Human management brings into existence systems that must keep on being managed. Rarely well. Nature brings into existence systems that arise within self management, and therefore never need a manager.

Vera’s comments resonate with my own: That because of our imaginative poverty, and our inability to really understand and follow nature’s model of self-management, we are unable to conceive of, let alone develop “anticipatory awareness” of, discontinuous future events. We can recognize patterns, we can do environmental scanning and constantly watch for ‘weak signals’ that forebode changes ahead, we can extrapolate and project, and we can even (though too rarely) recognize the recurrence of patterns from our past history. But we, and our man-made systems, don’t have the resilience, the sheer numbers of data-providers and of data to draw on, or the billions of years of experience at mitigation and adaptation that nature does, and we can’t hope to. Just look at most science fiction, which presumes that all sentient creatures everywhere in the universe, throughout all time, have and always will look, feel, communicate and act astonishingly like humans today, and will deal with problems depressingly like we do today.

As John Gray tells us in Straw Dogs, our species is preoccupied with the needs of the moment, and despite our fascination with stories about the future, it is just not in our nature to do nature’s job of managing complexity. I read about the inevitability of us using geophysical engineering to “solve” the climate change that our ignorance of complexity has caused, by seeding the upper atmosphere with millions of tons of heat-reflecting metal particles, and I shake my head and sigh. The apes have been left in charge of the laboratory for far too long.

April 21, 2009

Links for the Week: April 19, 2009

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 00:00


walk beach
Beach in Esperance, Westerm Australia, where I’m writing this blog post – thanks to Cheryl for the photo

Can Permaculture and Social Networks Save the World?: Rob asks “If we learned how to work with nature and if we learned about our own nature – what could we achieve?” And Eric Lilius points us to Maya Mountain Research Farm, which is showing us the way to permaculture.

You’re Not My Everything: Janene’s story makes a compelling argument for polyamory, on the basis that one person can never hope to be everything another person needs.

Why I’m an Unschooler: PS’s book on unschooling is out, and you can download it for only $5. I’ll have more to say on this subject soon.

Are Electric Cars Our Future?: Shai Agassi takes an entrepreneurial approach to transport and peak oil that follows my book’s advice exactly — find your sweet spot, find the right partners, do great research to find and understand an unmet need, and use an innovation process to evolve solutions to that need. Hope he sees it through to execution. (Thanks Geoff and Viv for the link)

… Or Maybe Bicycles are a Better Idea: I know some intrepid Toronto bike commuters, in a city where the few bike lanes are accidents waiting to happen. If biking to work can work in Toronto, it can work anywhere. Thanks to Graham Clark for the link.

The Aboriginal Weathermen: Tree points us to indigenous weather knowledge from Australia — where they’ve been tracking the weather and climate change, effectively, for twenty thousand years.

Making a Living Online: Seth Godin points us to a free downloadable book on how to make a living through your blog. Haven’t read it yet but it sounds interesting.

How to Deal with Complex Systems: Dave Snowden provides a comprehensive recap of managing in complex environments, in which he discounts the value of scenario planning and offers some other alternatives.

Thought for the Week: From  Colleen:

EVERYONE’S GOT HER BASKET

Everyone has her basket.

And in that basket
are all the things
a body gets
in a lifetime:

The long legs
the natural grace

The way with words
or people
or numbers
or animals

The force field that makes money
or love
or ideas
or children
come to them first

The gene soup
that makes eyes blue
stomachs sturdy
loins fruitful
brains prodigious

Even the luck—
the ponies
the Kojak parking
the pair of pants on sale
or the person of their dreams available
at the exact moment
where need and want meet—
even that
is in the basket.

There will be days
when you look down at your basket and marvel
at the wonderful
wonderful
things inside

And there will be days
when you cannot bring yourself to look
at all
or rather
where the only place you can look
is at the basket next to you
and with longing.

But every day
someone is looking at your basket
with longing

Every day
someone would trade baskets with yours
sight unseen

I have been
in all of those places
and mostly
I am grateful
for the grace
that forgave my foolishness

This is my basket
to carry
and uncover
layer by layer
day by day
year by year

And sometimes
story by story.

May your basket overflow
with beautiful things
of incomparable joy
and wonder

And when it does not
may you be visited
by the same grace that sat down beside me
to show me the beauty
and the joy
and the wonder
I could not see

April 17, 2009

The Will to Live, and Life’s Trajectories

Filed under: Creative Works — Dave Pollard @ 19:05


pollard birches
Pollard birches, by Vincent Van Gogh

I spent four days last week with my father, who’s 85, and who’s struggling a lot these days with memory, especially words and names. In the past year, he’s moved from the house he lived in for 57 years. The house my brother and I grew up in, the house my mother — the only child of a brutal but engaging Welsh railroad engineer to run away from him, after the terrible war that defined her teenage years, to the strange colony of Canada — lived her adult life in. The house she died in, of a cancer that consumed her in six short months at the age of 60, the age I’m approaching now, and which she managed as stoicly as the loneliness and depression that haunted her life. My father was with her every moment of those terrible months, as he had been for his own mother when she had died a decade earlier. After visiting my mother in the early stages of her cancer, I respected her request to fly home and not to visit her again, to remember her as she was when she was able to keep her demons at bay.

My father remarried a few years later. My stepmother was a WREN, a woman active with the navy during the final years of the war to defeat the enemy that was then raining terror down upon my mother and her family. Living a thousand miles away, I hardly met her in the years before she was diagnosed, more than a decade ago, with cortico-basal degeneration, an incurable disease that ravages the mind and body at the same time. From what I can piece together she had a terrible life, fleeing an abusive husband and raising her four terrified children alone. Her disease was the ultimate injustice. My father was pressed into nursing duty again, and tried for several years to care for her in his house, but finally had to admit her to a convalescent home when she kept falling and injuring herself. For the next seven years he spent twelve hours or more a day visiting her there, talking to her even after she could no longer speak, even after she could no longer move enough to even indicate if she knew who he was, feeding her and looking after her every need. He called it his “job”.

About a year ago, his memory started to fail, and he was also diagnosed with prostate cancer, and somewhat reluctantly agreed to move into an assisted-care facility, and give up his empty house, which he could no longer maintain properly, and his car. His new home is institutional but, as far as these places go, excellent. They make sure he takes the right pills and gets help with the treatments for his various ailments, and they offer a dining room with very good food, and drive him to visit my stepmother for three hours each day. At his insistance, we have hired a caregiver for her, to take up some of the slack of his reduced visit schedule (he’s convinced she is not well cared for at her convalesecent home in his absence). My brother and sister-in-law devote a great deal of time visiting and helping him. I’m the slacker brother, living a thousand miles away and only talking with him on the phone an hour or so a week.

To give my brother and sister-in-law a break, I’m spending a total of nine days with him this month and next, with twelve days exploring SW Australia sandwiched in between, while they’re in the UK on a much-needed vacation. Because his memory of words comes and goes, telephone conversations have become a bit hit-and-miss anyway, so I wanted to see whether our communication would be better with facial expression and body language to substitute for the missing words. I’ve discovered that it helps, but not a lot. The truth is that, philosophers and writers and voracious readers both, our worlds and lives require language to give them most of their meaning. I kind of wished we were carpenters or painters, so that we could do stuff together that didn’t require words, stuff he could still do without a struggle. I’m going to see if I can talk him into taking up some art or craft during my second visit. His coordination is failing somewhat, but it’s still a lot better than his memory and language skills.

I found two things that helped a lot. Thanks to my brilliant daughter, who gave me a scrapbook full of photos for him, I discovered that when there are visual clues, like photographs, he can find the words he’s looking for more easily. Because we have lived so far apart for three decades, however, there is no shared context for recent photos, and you can only look at old photos for so long before you start feeling like you’re living in the past. So I’m going to collect recent photos of his life, and of mine, and we’ll take turns telling stories.

When I was young, my father’s idea of the perfect weekend was to go fishing in some lake in Manitoba he had never tried before. I didn’t like fishing but I loved exploring these remote areas, some of them four hours or more away from Winnipeg, so he drove and I navigated, and when we got to our destination, he fished and I hiked.

It occurred to me that he might enjoy a ride now, and he did — scenery, like photos, seems to help him find the words he seeks. We explored the roads all along the flooding Red and Assiniboine Rivers, including some roads that were completely flooded out, and my Dad regaled me with stories of picnics and outings from his youth, and from mine, that I’d forgotten. Afterwards, we visited my uncle and aunt’s house for dinner, and I learned that my aunt is either a better listener or more intuitive than I am, since she was able to fill in the blanks when my Dad was at a loss for words much better than either I or my uncle could.

We also went to visit my stepmother one day — the first time I had seen her, other than in sad photographs, since she became ill. Now, as for nearly a decade, she’s confined to a wheelchair, and shakes a lot, and her mouth is constantly open, but she has a lot of facial expression, and looks remarkably healthy for someone who’s been bedridden and locked inside a body that is no more than a terrible prison for her, for so long. I believe that, if I were in her situation, I would choose to simply stop swallowing food. That’s the choice I’ve been told another uncle of mine made when he died last year, and since we (my family) all have stated clear preferences for no resuscitation and no tube-feeding if/when we get to that stage in our lives, it is my guess that she is not in a lot of pain, and she is eating because she still has the will to live.

My theory is that, at this point in her life, she is staying alive only out of love for my father, in the belief that is what he wants of her. I find that thought overwhelming.

Another thought that occurred to me often over the last four days is how much I’m like my father, and how much the vector of my life, and of his, have been the same. We were both the nomads in our family, the writers, the readers, the philosophers, the hopeless idealists, the radical leftists. My father is an honorary lifetime member of an organization called Junior Achievement, that helps young people learn entrepreneurial skills. I spent most of my career helping entrepreneurs, and now have published a book on that subject. My father wrote a book but never found a publisher, and my success as a writer is one of the greatest joys of his life. He also received great vicarious pleasure that I followed his advice not to go into the ‘family business’ (he spent his life working there, unhappy and unfulfilled) — that I succeeded on my own merits, and that my children are doing the same. He taught me to be self-confident, to question and challenge everything, and that if you have that self-confidence you can do anything you want to. I have tried to pass along that simple wisdom to my children.

Now, when I hear myself talking to other people, it is my father’s voice I hear — his tone, his expressions, his vocabulary, his hesitations at forgotten words and names (I’ve always been terrible with names, and I’m relying more and more on my blog as my ‘extended memory’). I am constantly becoming him, and that infuriates and terrifies me. Ironically, or perhaps perceptively, he absolutely loved the ee cummings poem I read to him, and I am going to print it out and frame it for him:

A poet is somebody who feels, and who expresses his feelings through words. This may sound easy, but it isn’t.
A lot of people think or believe or know they feel — but that’s thinking or believing or knowing; not feeling. And poetry is feeling — not knowing or believing or
    thinking.
Almost anybody can learn to think or believe or know, but not a single human being can be taught to feel. Why? Because whenever you think or you believe or you know, you’re a lot of other people: but the moment you feel, you’re nobody-but-yourself.

To be nobody-but-yourself — in a world which is doing its best, night and day, to make you everybody-else —
means to fight the hardest battle which any human being can fight;
    and never stop fighting.

My Dad is aware that my marriage has ended, and when I told him about it he predicted that I’d remarry, but I get a sense that he appreciates that, in some important senses, ones he greatly appreciates and admires, the trajectory of my life and of his have diverged. More than anything else, that is probably due to his counsel and my observations of some of the things that he’s done that have not made him happy. He has no regrets (he told me yesterday), and if he had his life to live over he’d do nothing different.

In these visits, he will take the opportunity to do one more thing for me, and for his family — to show us, through a life lived well, and generously, and fully, in accordance with principles from which he never wavered, how to be different, not only from everybody-else, but from him as well.

April 16, 2009

Starting Over, Holding Back

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 00:25


poly 2

Two months after reporting that I was “Starting Over“, I’m still standing on the same precipice, intending to make the jump but holding back. The purpose of this article is to talk (to myself and anyone else who cares to listen) about whether this “holding back” is out of fear, or because it really makes sense to wait, just a little longer. So caveat to readers: much navel-gazing ensues.

Basically there are two things holding me back — I think. The first is that my house, after a year on the market, has not sold (yes I know my timing for selling real estate is terrible). If I lowered the price I would probably get only half what it would be worth if I were patient. Opportunities for renting it are poor. My ex (who of course owns half of it) does not want us to sell in a panic. I was thinking I could perhaps just give the house to her as part of the final separation agreement, and move on. But most of my assets are tied up in this house, and if she were to continue to live there the maintenance costs would be high enough that she’d also need a significant cash reserve to pay for them, beyond any income she earns and alimony she would receive from me. So that would mean, for me, starting over with almost no cash.

The second thing holding me back is my job. It’s a really good job which allows me to do some things I love doing, with a very good team of people. It pays reasonably well and the stress level (a big issue, as I’ve found, for a colitis sufferer) is very low. The downside is that the paperwork and administration are so substantial that there is almost no time left for me to do the things I really want to do there (writing and speaking about sustainability, innovation, risk and entrepreneurship). And the job is in Toronto (where I no longer want to live — too damn cold in winter), and there is virtually no chance I can persuade the conservative organization I work for to let me do the job someplace else, in any of the places I’ve identified I would like to live.

So there’s the quandary: If I walk away from the house, I need to keep the job to build up cash again. I have a pension that kicks in in July, but I have worries about it too — it is paid to me in $US, so if the $US collapses so does my pension, my only source of significant retirement income; and there is a clause in the pension agreement that if my former employer, through whom the pension was earned, suffers a serious decline in profit, my pension will be cut proportionally, and I personally believe there is a significant chance of that happening in the rocky economy we’re now living in. And if I keep the job, I have to stay in Toronto, in which case I may as well stay in the house I’m in.

Now do you see why I’m holding back? Here’s how the three scenarios look:

Best case scenario (probability: about 20%): By September the house sells for a reasonable price and there are no hassles with my pension. Would I quit my job at that point? I think I would then probably try to negotiate doing it from another location (most likely the lower mainland or gulf islands of British Columbia). Failing that I would probably give a year’s notice and, in the summer of 2010, if the pension is still providing an adequate income and not looking threatened in future, I’d retire.

Most likely scenario (probability: about 50%): The house doesn’t sell by September, but the pension is providing an adequate income and not looking threatened in future. I’d probably do the same as in the ‘best case’ scenario — try to renegotiate work location or failing that give a year’s notice, and then give the house to my ex as part of the final separation agreement, when I move away from Toronto.

Worst case scenario (probability: about 30%): The house doesn’t sell by September and problems also arise with the pension. If that occurs, I’m probably stuck doing what I’m doing for several more years — the stress involved in doing anything else under those circumstances would be high enough to jeopardize my health, and I’m just not going to do that.

Put it all together and 2010 retired in BC looks like a good (70%) but not certain bet. I can see renting a place, probably in a co-housing or other intentional community outside the city, near forest and ocean, perhaps shared with another ’snowbird’ (a person who lives in Canada six months of the year in summer, and winters somewhere warmer, both to take advantage of low-cost universal Canadian health care and to stay onside immigration laws in other affluent nations that prevent non-millionaires from retiring there all year round).

I can see renting a second place I would live in from November through April each year in New Zealand, Australia or Hawaii, likewise shared with community. Why rent instead of buy? I just can’t see the point in tying up a lot of money buying property when the future housing market, in my opinion, will in the longer term go sideways, at best. The era of insane housing price inflation is over, killed by the realization that borrowing more than you can hope to repay is and always was bad business for everyone.

I doubt I would be able to sublet either place during its colder season, but I’d be quite willing to let someone reliable house-sit it for free (other than utilities) while I was in the other hemisphere. This whole plan would have to be agreeable to the communities I’m living in, of course.

My dream, as regular readers probably know, is to live simply in a yurt or similar innovative round structure (one large room, reconfigurable) in the summer in each hemisphere, near forest and ocean, where heating and air conditioning (at least during the months I’m there) are unnecessary, in a peaceful, uncrowded and progressive location, with good Internet access, doing the ten things I love doing (graphic above), and nothing more. There are places in BC, NZ, Australia and Hawaii that appear to meet these criteria.

OK, I’m clear. Thanks for listening to me think out loud. Any other ideas and comments to help me plan my future, I’m all ears.

April 12, 2009

Glass Half Full

Filed under: Creative Works — Dave Pollard @ 23:43


Glass of WaterThe business executive was considering the strategic direction of his company, and consulted with an expert in strategy, uncertainty and complexity. “I need to know,” the executive said, “whether we’re going to have a quick recovery from this recession, or if it’s going to get even worse”.

The consultant, who had been keeping up with the latest trends, suggested that rather on relying on economists, who were almost invariably wrong, the executive should assemble a diverse group of people and draw upon the Wisdom of Crowds.

So an invitation was issued to some of the brightest people in the nation from all walks of life, and soon dozens of people congregated in the executive’s conference room. The conference facilitator, who was a whiz with metaphors, welcomed everyone and then said to the amassed group: “There is an old  proverb that says that, when looking at a glass like this one” (he held up the glass in the picture), “the optimist will see it as half full, while the pessimist will see it as half empty. We would like to know how you see it.”

First to speak was an Appreciative Inquiry Specialist who said, “I wonder how it got half full? Because if we could figure that out, we could get it all the way full!”

Then a scientist replied “The glass is simply twice as large as it needs to be.”

Next an environmentalist piped up: “If it’s tap water, the glass is half full; if it’s bottled water, the glass is half empty.”

A doctor intoned “Pessimism correlates with stress-related diseases that can shorten your life by up to twenty years, so if you know what’s good for you, you had better see this glass as at least half full.”

An accountant in the group asked “How full or empty would you like it to be?”

A statistician shook his head, and, holding up a chart, explained “At no point is the glass precisely half full or half empty, because the water is constantly evaporating.”

Next up was a lawyer who said “We have no comment at this time regarding the fullness or emptiness of the alleged glass.”

And then a banker chimed in “If you consider the leverage opportunity we’ve created by allowing more air space into the glass, it’s clear that the glass is full to overflowing, but there remains considerable opportunity for it to become even fuller, without limit, indefinitely. And if not, we are more than willing to loan you a second glass on what we think are very reasonable terms, given your credit history.”

A new immigrant said “Where I come from we have no glasses, and nothing to put in them, so by comparison this glass looks very full to me.”

A former billionaire who had lost three fourths of his wealth retorted “Hey, I think that’s my glass, where did you get it? And when I last saw it it was full. And it was a bigger glass!”

A politician from the party in power drew himself up and proclaimed “Despite the fact that the previous administration neglected this glass disgracefully, we have made it a priority to ensure that the fullness of all glasses everywhere is and will be maximized.”

But a politician from the opposition party replied “Despite the hard work of the citizens of our country, the current administration continues to shamefully allow this glass, and all glasses across this great country of ours, to be drained to the point of exhaustion.”

A conspiracy theorist with a frightened look went even further, saying “The government has cynically changed the way volume statistics are collected, to the point that any measure of fullness or emptyness is now meaningless.”

A psychiatrist replied patronizingly “The glass, of course, represents the womb, and so one’s perception of its emptiness or fullness will be affected by one’s desire to return to that womb, by the experiences one had while in the womb. And, I need not add, by the degree of one’s fear of drowning.”

A philosopher stroked his beard and inquired of the group: “At certain times, this glass has probably been full, and at other times empty, and at other times still all gradients of fullness and emptiness. And since time is ephemeral and flowing, who is to say what its state is, or even if the glass itself is merely an illusion, a construct of our imaginations?”

But a sports commentator interrupted and blurted out “Well, we’ve certainly never seen a glass do this before, at least not in these circumstances, and folks, you may be seeing one for the ages.”

Finally a Taoist said quietly: “The glass simply is what it is, and so is what is contained in it.”

Others in turn expressed their views, and finally the expert consultant thanked them all and declared the conference concluded. When the guests had all left, the executive said to the expert: “Well, now we’ve heard the Wisdom of Crowds; is the glass half full or half empty?”

“Yes,” said the expert. “Please let us know if we can be of further assistance in future.”

April 11, 2009

Links of the Week: April 11, 2009

Filed under: Our Culture / Ourselves — Dave Pollard @ 18:51


I’m away for the next three weeks, in Winnipeg and Western Australia, so posting may be erratic.

clinton obama
photo from The Root

There is Never Nothing Happening: Johnny Moore waxes eloquent on the need for noticing. Thanks to Chris for the link, and for pointing me to panhala, from which the two poems below are taken.

Information May Be Nearly Free, But In Energy Terms It’s Expensive: Kurt Cobb explains that we’ve always lived in an information age, that most of what passes for information isn’t, and that an information economy isn’t any lighter on the planet than the industrial one. Thanks to Dale for the link.

Getting Discouraged With Obama: Not me: I knew that what we’d get from American-style democracy would be, at best, a modest retreat from the arrogant imperialism and loathing for the environment and diversity of the Bush era. He’s had some good ideas, like cash for clunkers. But a lot of people seem to have foolishly expected that Obama would not be a war-monger, dared believe he would put an end to torture and secrecy, and hoped he would not cater to the powerful corporatist interests. Ah, well. He does photograph well (pictured above with Ms. Clinton on the White House lawn).

bagley cartoon
cartoon by Pat Bagley, from Cagle comics

The Markets are Far From the Bottom: Rob Paterson describes how this recession compares with three similar past ones. Connected to the chart on this site, another chart shows the real value of investments since 1870 discounted by the real rate of inflation (not the phony low rate the governments report). You don’t want to see what your real income, your real net worth, and your real pension value is, using the real rates of inflation.

Print Your Own: And in the meantime, Detroit, facing 22% unemployment, issues its own local currency (thanks to Tree for the link and the one that follows).

Spend More Time in the Dirt: A new scientific study suggests ingesting dirt is not only good for our digestive system, it can make us happier.

Better Conferences: More Hallways Please: Seth Godin proposes that giving conference attendees projects to complete in 1/2 day would be more valuable than having them listen to speakers, and could create lifelong relationships.

Is This the Future of the PC?: A 12-inch tablet computer with a touch-screen keyboard built in. Getting closer. Thanks to Rayne for the link.

Self-Promotion Department:

One-hour interview on CHEX-TV with Dan Carter about my book, Finding the Sweet Spot.

My article in ODE Magazine on the recession-proof way to create your own enterprise.

Leunig cartoon

Just for Fun:

Another great Leunig cartoon (above) — thanks to Viv for the link.

Fiona Apple sings Why Try to Change Me Now? — thanks to Patti for the link.

A cat ‘fixes’ a bothersome computer printer — thanks to my daughter Tiffany for the link.

Bruce Cockburn and Jesse Cook’s one-minute guitar lessons.

And finally, a shaggy dog story.

Thoughts for the Week:

From David Whyte:

SOMETIMES

Sometimes
if you move carefully
through the forest
 
breathing
like the ones
in the old stories
 
who could cross
a shimmering bed of dry leaves
without a sound,
 
you come
to a place
whose only task
 
is to trouble you
with tiny
but frightening requests
 
conceived out of nowhere
but in this place
beginning to lead everywhere.
 
Requests to stop what
you are doing right now,
and
 
to stop what you
are becoming
while you do it,
 
questions
that can make
or unmake
a life,
 
questions
that have patiently
waited for you,
 
questions
that have no right
to go away.

From Margaret Atwood:

THE MOMENT
 
The moment when, after many years
of hard work and a long voyage
you stand in the centre of your room,
house, half-acre, square mile, island, country,
knowing at last how you got there,
and say, I own this,
 
is the same moment when the trees unloose
their soft arms from around you,
the birds take back their language,
the cliffs fissure and collapse,
the air moves back from you like a wave
and you can’t breathe.
 
No, they whisper. You own nothing.
You were a visitor, time after time
climbing the hill, planting the flag, proclaiming.
We never belonged to you.
You never found us.
It was always the other way round.
 

April 10, 2009

What’s Next After Knowledge Management? A Scenario

Filed under: Working Smarter — Dave Pollard @ 22:21


OrgInfoFlows1
Major information flows in organizations, c. 1975

One of the most important things I’ve learned in the last few years is that, except for senior management, no one in most organizations really understands what the business of the organizations is all about — how decisions are made, what information is used and how, etc. And, at the same time, senior management really has no clue about what goes on at the front lines of their organization, or outside their organization — what potential new recruits think, what customers really think about the organization, etc.

This should be obvious, if you think about it. Senior managers are insulated from the front lines and customers. No one wants to tell the boss what’s wrong with the organization — it’s a career-limiting move. And senior managers are too busy to spend much quality time with either employees or customers. To the extent they interact with customers it’s with the senior managers of those customers, who are likewise unenlightened about what is going on in their own organizations. So decisions are made, often, in a vacuum, based on deficient and filtered information.

As for the line employees, they usually have never been exposed to or taught about what goes on in other parts of the organization, or how managers make decisions. This is getting worse: The current generation of young employees are likely to work in 12 organizations in their careers — not enough time to really figure out “the business of the business” in any of them. The tragedy is that often neither they nor their senior managers think they need to know what the business is all about, unless and until they become senior managers themselves. So most employees spend their entire careers feeling under-appreciated, disconnected, unconsulted, and annoyed at stupid instructions and useless information requests from management. An they have a ton of very useful information about customers, operational ineffectiveness, and what’s going on in the world and the marketplace, that is never solicited, and never proffered.

I care about all this because I have spent about 1/3 of my career in an area called Knowledge Management. This discipline began about 15 years ago, and has largely followed the track of other business ‘fads’ like business process reengineering and total quality management — a flurry of investment and enthusiasm, followed by disenchantment and finally abandonment.

The problem with KM is that the people charged with introducing it into organizations were mostly front-line back-office people — middle managers with a background in library management, IT or training. Few of them really knew how decisions were made and resources allocated in their organizations. The library people saw KM as a content management exercise. The IT people saw KM as a set of technology projects (intranets, extranets, groupware). The training people saw KM as an e-learning vehicle. Senior managers were mostly unenthusiastic, worried that it would spawn more IT bureaucracy like e-mail, and not seeing any new value provided by it. Their hope, tragically, was that KM might automate some back office functions and allow cost savings (e.g. blowing up the corporate library).

We might be able to understand the reasons for KM’s failure if we looked through the eyes of senior managers, front-line employees, and customers, at the value of information to organizations. The diagram above shows how this looked in the days before ubiquitous computers — say, in 1975.

At that time, internal memos, typed up by secretaries, instructed front-line and back-office employees what to do, and required them to report production data that managers could use for making decisions. Written information flowed vertically, not horizontally. Managers talked with other managers, and employees talked with other employees, and occasionally with outside colleagues, to learn their jobs and share what they had learned. A few employees had started using the Internet and other electronic sources of information for research, but most research was done using the internal library or outside journals. Customers received printed marketing material from the organization, and submitted their orders. These were the principal information flows in organizations at that time.

This actually made a lot of sense, when you consider how senior managers saw, and operated, their organizations. The job of senior managers was and is to make the organization sustainable. Managers do this by making critical decisions, issuing instructions, capturing performance data, and tweaking those decisions accordingly. The variables they need to watch and make decisions about are:

  1. Cash flow: The net result of sales, investments, loans and share issues, government incentives, operating expenses, R&D, dividends, and capital expenditures.
  2. Share price: Investors’ assessment of future growth in cash flow, which is critical to obtaining low-cost capital.
  3. Risks and opportunities: Threats from new and existing competitors, a variety of threats to reputation and business continuity, regulatory changes, rate changes, supply changes, frauds, disasters, and opportunities to innovate, make acquisitions, outsource, reorganize or change capital structure

To manage cash flow, they pressure employees to find ways to increase sales and reduce costs. Budgets, resource allocations, and monthly targets and reporting are their levers for doing so. To manage share price, they need to ensure that cash flow is always steadily rising. When cash flow from operations fails to meet targets, they look at layoffs, outsourcing, capital budget reductions, increasing government incentives through lobbying, cutting dividends or reorganizing (e.g. divesting unprofitable operations).

To manage risks, they will acquire, sue or out-advertise competitors, hire PR firms to whitewash and greenwash their social and environmental misdeeds, put controls in place to reduce risk of fraud, buy insurance and hedges to reduce exposure to rate changes and disasters, lobby against new regulations, lock in or acquire suppliers, outsource non-critical operations.

To manage opportunity, a few will invest in innovation, but for most larger organizations, it is much safer to acquire small innovative companies, to use leverage (borrow from the bank) when interest rates are lower than profit margins, and through planned obsolescence by constantly forcing customers to replace or upgrade, and locking them in to the organization’s product.

This is what senior managers do. It is not surprising, therefore, that they tend to see IT, KM and training as “non-value-added” activities. They were getting the information they needed before the advent of computers, so why should they invest in new IT and KM projects? And since they expect and receive little loyalty from employees, why should they invest in training them, when the essential knowledge they need must be obtained “on-the-job” anyway?

In the 1980s and 1990s, most organizations invested in three new technologies, mostly reluctantly: fax, e-mail, and intranets. Fax was a faster and cheaper way to send marketing materials to customers and to receive orders, and send instructions to and collect performance data from remote operations, and it was not an expensive technology to introduce. Its heyday was a mere decade.

E-mail and corporate intranets were introduced in most organizations in the 1990s. Senior managers expressed concerns that e-mail would be a scourge, and many attempted to limit its use. They were right about it being a scourge, but not successful in limiting its use. It was a stealth success — permitted because it was not that expensive, but quickly used for mostly inappropriate purposes. Corporate intranets were used at first to automate the two dominant types of shared organizational information: policies and procedures, and directories. Eliminating hard-copy manuals and directories was a welcome change, but intranets quickly became massive repositories for millions of context-free archived documents that were of almost no use to anyone but the author. The consequence has been an explosion in complex server technologies, taxonomies and search technologies — for information that almost no one finds to be of any value. Documents touted as ‘reusable best practices’ were dumped into the corporate intranet and abandoned. Some organizations ended up hiring intranet ‘garbage collectors’ to remove the most useless and obsolete content.

To try to connect to customers, many organizations in the 1990s and 2000s have invested in ‘extranets’ (websites that only customers had access to) and sophisticated, interactive public websites. They found to their chagrin that decision-makers in most organizations were too busy to visit their websites, and that most of the people browsing the web pages they had so carefully crafted were job-seekers, students doing papers, the competitors, and the media.

So here we are in 2009, and the principal information flows in most organizations are still exactly what they were in 1975, as depicted in the chart above. What’s changed:

  • Instead of typed memos, instructions are now sent to employees by e-mail; performance data is sent back up to management by e-mail, or captured electronically automatically.
  • Peer-to-peer conversations are still mostly real time and face-to-face or voice-to-voice (or IM); asynchronous conversations in e-mail threads are arguably the least effective. E-mail has allowed more conversation with colleagues outside the organization, and with young workers much learning occurs through such conversations, though IT security in most large organizations prohibits many of the social media used by young workers to communicate outside the organization, nullifying much of this advantage and creating considerable animosity.
  • The library has been largely supplanted by the Intranet, but it is now much harder to find things and there are fewer information professionals able to help you find stuff, so searching takes longer and is less effective. The Intranet in most organizations is still used principally for the same two purposes: looking up policies and procedures, and directories. Most other Intranet content is unused or in some cases misused.
  • E-mail has allowed a massive increase in the amount of work delegation between employees in most organizations. It is easier to delegate work when you don’t have to face the person you’re asking to do it, even though the chance of it being done well is less. E-mail also allows much more procrastination in organizations — people send requests for information to others Friday afternoon, as an excuse to put off working on a project until the next week. There is considerable evidence that e-mail has had a significant negative effect on productivity and work effectiveness, because there is no accountability to the sender for time of the recipients that has been wasted, and because it costs nothing to send an e-mail to an unlimited number of recipients.
  • After a period of disintermediation (people doing their own on-line research instead of having librarians, assistants or information professionals do it for them) there has been a swing back to reintermediated research, as most employees learned they lack the significant competencies needed to do quality research. Young workers tend to still do their own on-line research, but only until they find an appropriate intermediary and reach the level at which they are permitted to delegate research.
  • Most marketing material is now sent by e-mail and also duplicated on the organization’s public Internet site, but in these electronic forms it is mostly unread.

In other words, in adding to the volume and complexity of information systems, we have added relatively little value, and in some cases actually reduced value. The reason for this is simple:

  1. We have not done anything to substantively improve the ability of senior management to manage the business (i.e. to manage cash flow, share price, risks or opportunities). 
  2. We have not done anything to substantively improve the effectiveness of any of the information flows (arrows in the above diagram) that matter in organizations, or the quality of the information.

We have, in short, implemented a solution that addressed no problem. We introduced new KM tools because we could.

If that were the end of the story, we could just shrug off KM as another business fad and move on. But there is something happening in organizations today that is beginning to improve the quality of information and the effectiveness of information flows that matter, something that creates a second opportunity for KM people to actually do something useful.

What is happening is that people are beginning to manage their own information, and information processes. They are finding workarounds to the dysfunctional processes in the organizations they work in. They are finding ways to draw on people in their growing online networks to do their jobs better. They are realizing that, if tomorrow’s workers will end up working in a dozen different jobs in their lifetimes, they need to take responsibility for their own learning and their own knowledge, and take it with them from one job to the next. Increasingly, they are keeping their knowledge in their own personal repositories, and in their own personal networks.

I have written before about what I call Personal Knowledge Management, which is an attempt to enable workers to do this more effectively. My problem was that PKM is impossible to sell to senior management, because it has no value for them. I toyed with the idea of trying to sell it front-line workers directly, perhaps by starting a magazine called Working Smarter. The problem with this is that everyone is at a different stage in their evolution towards PKM, and there are no standard answers or approaches — we each have to muddle this through for ourselves, based on our own ‘knowledge set’ and information behaviours.

But perhaps if we outlined a future scenario of where this PKM trend is headed, we might be able to evolve an approach that would accommodate the needs of both individual workers and the organizations struggling to cope with this phenomenon.

To this end, let me start with a story of a young business analyst named Jon:

Jon spent the first week in his new job with Giant Co. trying to port all the information, contacts, subscriptions, and software tools he had been using in his three previous jobs to his new company-supplied computer. He was stymied at every turn. He was not allowed to put the tools he was familiar with onto his new computer because they were “not supported” by his new employer. He was blocked by the security firewall from using webmail in the office (”we consider this to be something employees would only use for personal non-business purposes”) even though all his business contacts and subscriptions were on it. He was blocked from accessing YouTube (where many of the videos he had prepared for his previous employers, and some educational videos he referred to regularly, were stored). He was blocked from using IM and Skype, so he was cut off from his global network of experts and colleagues who used IM and Skype exclusively for instant, free knowledge sharing, advice, and quick lookups of useful research materials. He was blocked from using Vyew, so instead of being able to call people outside the office for quick, free conferences with screen-sharing, he had to use the company’s expensive pay-per-use audio conferencing system (and everyone on the call had to be pre-authorized), and send a huge deck of screen captures by e-mail to participants in advance. He wasn’t permitted to work from home. When we worked on weekends from home, his web access to his work e-mail didn’t work properly, and because his co-workers didn’t use it, he was told it would be months before they would start trying to fix the problems with it. After a long delay, he was approved for VPN, but only on his work computer, so he began lugging it home every day, only to discover that it degraded performance so much that even accesses e-mail with it was agonizingly slow.

His boss dropped into Jon’s cubicle about six weeks after he had started work, and found Jon working away happily. But to the boss’ surprise, Jon had two computers sitting side-by-side on his desk. Jon explained that his work computer was connected to the organization’s network, and he used it only to access messages and documents behind the firewall, which Jon would immediately forward to his personal e-mail account, or (using a USB drive) quickly transfer over to his own machine. All work was done on Jon’s own machine, which was connected to the Internet (and all Jon’s contacts, subscriptions and documents) by a wireless connection that Jon paid for personally. Because all Jon’s outgoing e-mails came from his own machine, 90% of the e-mail he was receiving from fellow employees was now being sent to his personal e-mail address (most people didn’t notice or care that Jon’s ‘reply to’ e-mail address on his messages wasn’t his company e-mail address). Ten of his co-workers at the company had followed his two-computer example, and were using IM rather than e-mail for their communications. The boss asked whether it didn’t take a lot of time to transfer between the two machines, and Jon replied “Less and less all the time”. Jon’s boss left the office unsure whether to praise Jon for his innovative workaround, or report him to IT to make sure Jon wasn’t exposing the company to security risks.

This is a composite of a number of real cases of young people working around dysfunctional information systems I have witnessed in the last two years. I expect it’s going to become more and more common.

Let’s suppose that, in twenty years, Jon’s information behaviour becomes the norm. Eventually organizations will have to face the problem, and end the guerilla war that is brewing between the IT security people and Gen Y in a growing number of companies and institutions. I think it is unlikely that most will be able to resolve the perceived security threats in such a way that they could allow the Jons of the world to do what they want inside the firewall. What is more likely is that, just like the calculator and telephone, the laptop (soon to become even smaller and more powerful) will evolve to be a ubiquitous personal device that people will carry with them everywhere. At that point having redundant computers (and phones) on everyone’s desk will become absurd, and IT security can start to focus on protecting confidential data from being accessed, rather than trying to lock down employees’ appliances. At that point, the role of the rest of IT, and KM, will have to change completely. Here’s a scenario of how I think it might look:

OrgInfoFlows2
Major information flows in organizations, c. 2025?

In 2025, every individual in every organization uses their own personal computer for both personal and work applications. Almost all information is Web-based, with organizations’ proprietary information only accessible through authorization software. E-mail has disappeared, replaced by a virtual presence application that includes instant messaging, screensharing, voice/videoconferencing, filesharing, calendaring, tasklists. Employees maintain a Company Sector on their machines in which they put information that can be accessed 24/7 by other employees. Most people also maintain a Public Sector on their machines in which they put information that can be accessed 24/7 or subscribed to by anyone in the world (this has replaced blogs and applications like Facebook), and Community Sectors in which they put information that can be accessed 24/7 by other members of that Community. The aggregation of the Company Sectors of all employees of an organization replaces the corporate Intranet of past generations; it can be viewed by anyone in that organization. The aggregation of the Community Sectors of all members of a particular community replaces the community tools (forums, wikis etc.) of past generations; it can be viewed by anyone in that community.

The IT department is still responsible for maintaining security around the organization’s proprietary information, but very little content is left in this category. IT also checks that the information in employees’ machines’ Company Sectors is appropriate for sharing, and auto-replicating properly.

The KM department still manages the purchase of external information, though almost all information in 2025 is free; information producers have realized that their business model is to apply that information to specific customers’ business environment, in consulting assignments, rather than trying to sell publications. Most of the mainstream media were nationalized after they went bankrupt using their traditional business models, and now operate as public services.

Most of what the KM department does now is trying to facilitate more effective conversations among people within the organization and with people outside the organization, including customers. They facilitate many meetings that use the virtual presence application, especially those that involve more than five people. That facilitation includes organizing the meeting, distributing advance materials, facilitating the discussion (conflict resolution, staying on schedule etc.), and even recording, editing and publishing the meeting as appropriate. They run courses in effective conversation, meeting and presentation skills.

In addition, the KM department conducts environmental scans and conducts research in areas the organization wants to focus on, and publishes and runs short video presentations on the results. They also browse the content of the aggregate of the Company Sectors of all employees of the organization, notifying managers and employees of content that may be worthy of follow-up, and they assist employees to manage their subscriptions to people’s Public Sector content. And, when the organization holds sessions and conferences on strategy, risk, innovation or customer relationships, the KM department is on hand to do advance and just-in-time research.

.     .     .     .     .

If you’re in KM, or in a business that has a KM function, I’d be interested in your thoughts on this. I’ve been known to be a bit ahead of my time in thinking about the future of business and technology, but I think this scenario is quite feasible. The organizers of this fall’s KM World conference are looking for some thought leadership in this area, and I plan to use this article to provoke some ideas from those who have been working in this area as long as I have. So tell me what you think.

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