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21 Jun

Abraham Maslow studied self-actualized people–highly evolved people, you might say, advanced in their thinking, sophisticated in their humanity, expressive, expansive, generous, loving, confident, healthy, gifted, alert–and what made them special. In particular he focused on the way they perceived.

He thought they knew things in a different way, which he called B-Cognition, short for Being-Cognition. In B-Cognition, the individual perceives the object as if the individual were part of the object. A loving, universalizing, interrelated way of knowing. Knowing the object so well that you discover in it yourself, or links to yourself, and through those links, you intuit more links–to everything.

A way of looking or knowing that encompasses the object’s existence and your own existence and so is also a kind of being, hence the name. A way of knowing that radiates love, joy, contentedness, acceptance, appreciation, forgiveness to those in contact with the individual.

The great people manage to exist in B-Cognition; the rest of us get in there now and then: in the process of artistic creation, listening to music, in meditation or in mindful moments, walking in the woods, in a moment of “flow,” or generally, in moments of being teased out of routine cares by things.

Maslow distinguishes B-Cognition from D-Cognition, which we all use all the time, to my everlasting chagrin. This is Deficit-Cognition, perceiving in a way that separates the looker from the looked-at. Judging, categorizing, assigning relative value, assessing relevance, bracketing off, determining usefulness or beauty, investigating logical truth, etc.

D-Cognition is the lens through which we see each other and the world: “To what extent is this thing useful to me?” we are asking at some level every time we perceive anything. Or perhaps the question we ask ourselves has another form, too, coming from a position of anxiety: “Will this thing impede or injure me? Expose a vulnerability?”

If you pay attention to the flicker of thought in your mind and in the faces of others as you meet them in the street or in the office (imagine doing this!), you’ll see D-Cognition at work. Instantaneous judgements and rankings and assessments and associated thoughts and anxieties well up with every glance, no matter how fleeting.

I think D-Cognition is basically the only perceptory apparatus of the workplace, which is logical, I suppose, because the prevailing idea at work is that we are practical, efficient, and attuned to the bottom line, and we need to judge, judge, judge, judge. Or be judged. 

In aesthetic and academic circles I think there might be a little more room for B-Cognition. A scholar writing about Wordsworth, for instance (I picked him on purpose!), I hope, is (or was at some point) motivated by a B-Cognition-like experience of (or with) the text. Of course she then writes about it and has to defend her writing against other scholars and other interpretations and in creeps D-Cognition.

Maslow’s study of perception connects with other similarly-oriented ways of thinking. My personal saint and philosopher, Henri Bergson, always sought “pure perception,” for instance, which was to be achieved by intuition, a penetrative, organic, knowing-from-within, like B-Cognition.  I remember writing in my Master’s thesis decades back about the experience of using intuition on a text and hypothesizing that at some point down in the trenches of that perception you were seeing yourself or seeing an interplay between yourself and the text that changed both. Some kind of quantum effect.

B-Cognition is also a good way to describe the goal of mindfulness and meditation, very popular now (and deservedly so) in our frazzled, overloaded, hyper-material, people-argue-with-each-other-on-TV, tabloid-y culture.  These activities, coming out of the Buddhist tradition, focus your attention to your inner experience of life in the moment; and one of the key points, as you come to know yourself, is to come to know yourself as existing in a kind of suspension of selves, one big oneness. Mindfulness chips away at the unhealthy personal and interpersonal effects of D-Cognition and aims to get you to the place where you can radiate in all directions the kind of contentedness and love that Maslow’s modern Buddhas did.

B-Cognition and mindfulness also align with Constructive Developmental Psychology, which I’ve mentioned a few times, and in particular with the fabulous 5th stage of Robert Kegan’s hierarchy of epistemological sophistication.  This is the stage where your interest in being a “self” fades and you begin to take very seriously other selves and relations between selves. You laugh happily at your own fallibilities, which you would never do if you were trying to keep your you-ness intact.  And of course they align with all those wonderful, inscrutable, contradictory, healing messages from thinkers and artists working along the same lines. Walt Whitman, of course. Maybe something in the Cubists. Etc.

I like the path Maslow took — starting with a psychological investigation more or less according to the way of Western science (although feeling perhaps more like archaeology than psychology?), he ended up confirming what he was seeing by drawing similar connections to thought in non-western-scientific containers: religion, philosophy, aesthetics, literature.

One last point that I think is key. In B-Cognition, we have the data of D-Cognition, plus much more. It is not that we suddenly lose our ability to discern or to think; B is not intellectually inferior to D. Those D-data are all there, but contextualized, re-membered, put back together, held together with contradictory information, resolved, understood in a different way by an epistemology at a higher order of complexity. A small piece replaced in a big puzzle.

For myself I’m about getting more B-Cognition to the people. At work, in life. On a personal level, on a local level, on a national level. B-Cognition of others, and maybe more importantly, of themselves. Appreciation of B-Cognition. Restitution of wholeness and relatedness in the deconstructed and compartmentalized lives of people.

Pieces of an Ecology of Workplace Learning

9 Apr

Lately I’ve been saying that you should cultivate learning in your organization as you might manage an ecological resource, like a forest, or any other complex system of high priority (like your computer network or your budget). As if learning were a “cognitive enterprise infrastructure” or worked like a kind of water cycle. But how would you do that, and what would it be like, and how would it be different than what you do when you think of your workplace as a kind of machine that consistently produces material stuff? I am not totally sure, but here I take a guess at nine possible pieces of an ecology of workplace learning.

  1. Cultivate Development, Rather Than Manage Performance. The point is not to manage people’s performances, but rather to get them to develop as much as they can, on the assumption that more highly evolved people do better things. The annual performance review that tracks behaviors against rather limited metrics and has a kind of binary output (wrong or OK) here evolves into something more like a coaching relationship in an experiential context: growth is the focus, not proscription. You look for activities that are motivating to the individual, that are a bit out of their comfort zone, yes, and you expect to support them in iterative cycles of trying things out, reflecting, adapting, and trying them out again. And you might add a variety of unheard-of supports and activities to help people think and reflect and be aware of themselves in a variety of dimensions, drawing on things from personality styles assessments to mentoring relationships to counseling-like activities, such as item 2, below. The trick is that these things, that we kinda do now in a knee-jerk way, away from work, would be more like the work.
  2. Support Cognitive Development. According to the work of Bob Kegan and Lisa Lahey (whom I talk about a lot), we evolve through a series of increasingly sophisticated ways of seeing ourselves and the world around us. That is, we can so develop, if given the right environment. And with this increased epistemological sophistication comes a better ability to deal with and thrive in complex environments. One such complex environment is the increasingly global, flat, multi-cultural, resource-starved, post-ideological, environmentally-challenged, a-traditional, scary world of today. To help people be effective in this kind of world requires activities that help us know differently; Kegan and Lahey’s Immunity to Change coaching process is one such structure. Having done it myself, I am amazed by its ability to make you reinvent the way you think about yourself and the world in which you engage; I fairly salivate to try it with a team of colleagues in a workplace. The downside? It’s an intensive, six-month process of bi-weekly meetings, invoking much deep personal questioning; that’s a huge investment. But in an ecology of workplace learning, invest in people is what you do: no rain means no rivers means no seas means no evaporation means no rain, etc.
  3. Assess Development in New Ways. In Higher Education we try to assess student learning, and it’s a challenge. But we don’t even try to assess faculty and staff learning; and the generic workplace doesn’t generally assess staff learning, either. But we should.  To promote development over production, we have see where this development is happening, individually and in teams. Of course it gets tricky: it’s easy to see your behaviors, but how do you see what’s going on behind the behaviors? Fortunately there are new kinds of tools that have potential in this regard: things like the Developmental Testing Service’s reflective judgment assessments, such as their test of managerial decision-making, which asks you to analyze complex, asymmetrical workplace problems, assesses you according to a complex scale of cognitive development rooted in Kurt Fischer’s work, and gives you (you yourself, the test taker!) rich feedback about your strengths and ways in which you can improve, data which feeds right back into the coaching relationship I mention above.
  4. Represent the Learning Ecosystem. If you’re going to try to manage an ecosystem, you need some kind of a representation of it. As the water cycle has its famous circular chart with arrows and the budget has its classic representations in profit/loss statements and balance sheets, so does the learning system have something. I don’t know what it will look like, exactly; but I imagine it will be something like the famous Kellogg Logic Model, which the well-known foundation suggests you use to understand your various high-stakes interventions, and which helps you see programmatic inputs, outputs, assessments, changes. With a key difference: the effect of your ecology isn’t an output external to you, it’s an evolution of your ecology. So a learning logic model would show as its characteristic feature a looping back upon its constantly changing self.
  5. Analyze How We Work; Analyze Our Culture. Part of learning is seeing yourself learn. That may be the single biggest difference between a learning organization and a producing organization: the learning organization sees itself and not just the things it makes. We will need to learn to pay attention not just to the products of our culture but to our culture, not just to the deliverable of the project, but to the way we work together on the project. For that a lot of tools exist already, like various kinds of post-activity group reflection encouraged in psychologically safe spaces, that let anyone share their experiences along the way. But new tools will help: the same sort of analytics thinking that has been transforming everything around us can help transform how we work together: social and network analyses to show us how we engage, corpus-linguistics analyses on the big data of our communications and cultural artifacts; these will help us, too, to see the patterns that make up our togetherness.
  6. Assign Staff to Cultivate Learning. Of course you can’t really have a garden without a gardener. And all the network analysis and group reflection exercises you might want to use won’t be that helpful unless it’s somebody’s job to watch learning in the organization at a meta level: to gather relevant data, assess its meaning, and help the group understand where it’s going. The teacher, if you will, of the organization. This would be a new thing: we’re used to thinking of Chief Information Officers, Chief Information Security Officers, Chief Executive Officers: this would be a Chief Learning Officer. Although of course it needs to be more than one person. And of course everyone has to be involved. But still the CLO might help organize it all. How much of your people resources should you put into learning, CLO and everything else thrown in? I propose 20% as a start. But I suspect it should be more, maybe up to 50%. Maybe 63%.
  7. Find New Ways to Gather and Share Ideas. Which Means Liking Them. One of the most important things in your organization are the ideas in people’s minds. The business world is just beginning to learn that to be relentlessly innovative, they have to gather and tend ideas in new ways, because ideas are the seed of innovation, be these ideas from their staff, their customers, their partners, their competitors. (See my last post for more on this). Part of this idea-tending requires a real cultural change–towards the acceptance and collective cultivation of ideas–and away from the general distrust of all things new that naturally grows up in an organization designed to perform consistently. Let me say that again: we will have to learn to like each other’s ideas.  And treat them, as it were, like a community resource, like, as it were, children. Because without them growing and maturing, we’ll fail. Businesses are starting to do this by building open, inclusive, idea-participation systems called Ideation Engines or Idea Stock Markets that aim to make the ideas in the group transparent and collectively developed. But I suspect you can go a long way without a particularly unique tool (a shared spreadsheet might work as well).
  8. Create Loops and Groups. In my perhaps over-simplified way of thinking, learning comes down to loops (in that feedback and reflection are crucial) and groups (in that learning is social; and in that your co-learners are as important for your learning as your own mind). So I think much of the key work of the Chief Learning Officer and her team will boil down to finding or building, and supporting, new sorts of groups in which people are desirous of learning together, and in adding “loops” to existing processes, to work reflection into the fabric of the organization.
  9. Do Some Old-School Ethnography. I am continually amazed by the complexity and mystery of people and of organizations. And by the fact that all you need to do to begin seeing and unravelling (or ravelling) the mystery is to observe people and ask questions (of course taking notes and writing down the answers). This is the way anthropologists settled on coming to know things as complex and mysterious as entire alien (to them) cultures. Libraries and IT departments have recently begun seeing that ethnography helps them understand the mysterious complexities of cultures alien to them, too (their customers). And it will work for you. On a certain level you can see an ethnographically-inclined research project as a kind of mirror to the people (if its results are shared with the people it studies), a loop at a high level, that both honors people and lets them see what’s going on. I think a lot about the emphasis in the popular Reggio Emilia model on the artful documentation of what the learners are doing; an ethnographic approach to your own organization is like that.

Top Ten Lessons of Learning Organization Research (Part A)

15 Mar

Colleen Wheeler, Gina Siesing, and I presented the “Top Ten Lessons of Learning Organization Research” this week at NERCOMP 2012; an excerpt of our presentation begins below.

If you agree with us that the time has come to cultivate learning in our organizations in a systematic, holistic way, as a kind of cognitive enterprise infrastructure—you may be interested in some other opportunities:

  • The Learning Organization Academy (LOA). We have been researching organizational learning as we build out NERCOMP’s new, intensive professional development program, designed to support you as you design and implement projects to improve learning in your organization. LOA premieres this July in Wellesley, MA, at preposterously low cost to you: if you’re interested, the enrollment pages will be opened on the NERCOMP site any moment now.
  • The Workplace Learning Survey: You may also like to take our provocative, associated Workplace Learning Survey; results of this survey will be reported on in the near future, stay tuned!
  • The Workplace Learning Road Show. For those who want to start to apply the lessons of workplace learning immediately, Collen, Gina, and I will come to your workplace and conduct a half or whole-day program with you and your colleagues that includes an introduction to the Organizational Learning literature, your own results on the Workplace Learning Survey, focused sessions on understanding your own culture and targeting areas of improvement, and sessions on surfacing individual and team-based belief systems. Write to me if this sounds fun.

Top Ten Lessons of Organizational Learning Research

10. Learning is key during times of change, yet organizations don’t learn well.

Everyone agrees that during times of change, the way to stay relevant is to learn, adapt, evolve. And we more or less have a sense of what it takes to do this—to significantly change our organization and its performance—it’s a big deal, yes, a three-year process, emotional, etc., but it can be done. That’s for changing once, though: retooling the production line to produce a new model, then just producing that model for a while.

The trick is that we’re now in an environment of constant change, so we need to forget the idea of alternating between periods of change and stability and design our organizations to be in a constant state of learning, of intentional, self-directed learning, and not just waiting for the world to intermittently force us to learn. It’s about managing a self-renewing learning ecosystem, not a factory.  This kind of always-learning organization is a higher order of learning, a much more complex structure, involving sophisticated management that we don’t really know how to do.

Complicating the problem is that we’re not particularly good at even the old change-once model of institutional learning. People by default come to act in organizations according to Argyris’ “Model 1:” they protect themselves from vulnerability, defend their teams from external destabilization, they don’t share, and they don’t trust. Which all means they don’t learn well.

9. People develop

We used to think you stopped learning at around age 21, and that after that point (when formal education generally stopped, too), you pretty much just coasted. This idea has fallen from favor; recent leaps in brain science let us see that the brain is constantly linking neurons to neurons right up to the end; Robert Kegan’s research also shows that adults can grow in cognitive sophistication over their lifetimes, changing the way they see the world in deep, meaningful ways, becoming increasingly able to deal with complexity and ambiguity. Which is good, because we’re talking about the need to teach ourselves how to grow and manage sophisticated learning ecosystems.

The catch here is that many of our behaviors and cultural structures still assume you don’t really develop. Things that focus on changing behavior rather than mindset or belief system (like performance reviews or New Year’s resolutions) are an example: they assume you can consciously decide your way through life, while the truth is that to really learn you often need to grow your consciousness itself. Another example is the cookie-cutter way we tend to understand each other and our organizations: more as changeless and rigid caricatures and less as subtle ontological and epistemological structures in constant state of flux and growth. Don’t we often identify a job and then look around for who can do it? In a learning organization we’d probably do something more like identify a job and ask what we need to do to help someone to grow into the ability to do it.

Carole Dweck’s work is telling. Her research reveals that if you think of yourself as “fixed,” say, as in “good” at something, you will avoid situations that challenge you, because you fear you’ll discover that you are not good. However, if you don’t worry about whether or not you’re good, but you focus on getting better, and if continuous improvement is your identity, you’ll crave any situation, especially the challenging ones, that can help you improve. Succeeding at getting better is of course better than failing at remaining good.

Even an institution built on improving people sometimes misses the point. Take the university. Here we dump enormous resources into the development of students, but nothing (relatively) goes to develop the staff or faculty.  But in an ecosystem every part influences every other part—investments in faculty and staff will help create a virtuous circle that lifts everyone.

8. People learn with loops and groups

Two very basic elements of learning can be summarized as “loops” and “groups.”

By loops we mean feedback loops. The basic learning cycle made famous by Kolb involves some planning, some action, some reflection, and then it starts over; this little sequence basically repeats itself in learning at a myriad of levels microcosmic and macrocosmic, in individual learning, and in team learning.

By groups we mean groups of people. Learning is a social happening (whether we think we’re alone or not). On the theoretical level Vygotsky’s famous Zone of Proximal Development sees in the social context the maximum growth potential of the individual. On the mundane it makes sense, too–clearly you can protect the vulnerability of learners and foster great conversations (important in forming loops!) when a small group of like-minded people are learning together.

An organization thinking about how it can improve its learning will thus likely spend a lot of time looking for places it can create feedback loops and add reflection to the ubiquitous planning and action cycles in the workplace. And when it’s not thinking about loops, the learning organization will be looking at its teams, how they function, how learning happens in them, and thinking about creating new learning teams or reinforcing existing teams.

7. Learning makes you vulnerable

One of the difficulties of learning in the workplace is that (as we saw above) we learn fast not to be vulnerable in the workplace.  But learning requires you to be vulnerable. On a basic level in any cognitive domain you have to be a beginner before you can be an expert: yet the workplace is obsessed with expertise and the appearance of expertise—to be thought of as less than expert, or incompetent, is perhaps the worst thing that can happen to you.

The problem is compounded for a team learning to do something new—in what we call the “double incompetency” problem, if you’re shifting resources from the old thing to the new thing as you ramp up to produce the new behaviors, there will be a point where you are insufficiently doing the old and not yet expert at the new. You’ll be liable to be called incompetent in both areas. From a traditional production perspective you should be fired.

But from the learning perspective the incompetence is required, and not welcoming that incompetence would be more or less immoral. So a learning organization will have to deal with this tension—protect the learners by retooling their expectations and the environment’s expectations, etc. And a learning organization that is in continuous dynamic development will have to learn how to also be in continuous dynamic insufficiency.

6. Learning makes the unconscious conscious

The reason we hinted above that structures that expect you to change your behavior by willpower don’t work is that we all have deep belief systems—both on an individual and social level—that govern those behaviors.  And if we want to behave differently (that is, if we want to learn), we have to adjust those belief systems.  This is the thinking behind Robert Kegan and Lisa Lahey’s work, and it emerges in Schein and Argyris as well.

You can change these belief systems, fortunately, and that is indeed the way we evolve through life: but to change them you need to “surface” them. You need to “see” the frame through which you saw the world, and in so doing you can make a new frame capable of handling more complex information.  It requires a king of penetrating self-examination and honesty in conversation that we don’t normally see in the workplace, though. Kegan and Lahey evolved a process, “Immunity to Change” that can guide you and your team in this journey; for Schein, protected conversations in safe “islands” are required to get at these deep beliefs. In either case looking for places you have conflict with the expectations of others is not a bad starting place, and fortunately, that sort of conflict is rife in work, where all our assumptions are basically thrown together and jostled about daily.

(continued in Part B)

Liaisons, Collaboration, Cooperation, and Soup

12 Jan

I was invited to talk to a group of wonderful library, IT, and teaching and learning center staff at UMASS Boston in early December; they are thinking about new ways to organize their community liaisons, and they asked me for my two cents.  I loved every minute of it; they were enthusiastic, engaged, reflective, fun. And here’s what I said, somewhat abbreviated.

When you look up the definition of liaison, you get what you’d expect. A person who interfaces between two organizational units to “ensure unity of purpose.” That makes sense. But I like some of the more obscure meanings of the word, too, like “any thickening for soups, sauces,” such as cream. Liaisons should see themselves as binders and thickeners. Liaisons, you are cream. Hold that thought.

I then worked with Lee Shulman’s definition of collaboration, as “a marriage of insufficiencies” (see “Communities of learners and Communities of teachers,” Mandel Institute, 2007, freely available online) and the well-known contrast in education thinking between collaboration and cooperation.

Cooperation, in my recap, is how you work together in a static environment. Your roles are defined, you basically perform consistently: you do things together that you don’t have to do together, you do them for convenience, and you don’t need to communicate much, because you all know your part. Collaboration, on the other hand, is the inverse. You do things together that you can only do with other people, because the goal is lofty, and none of you is sufficient to the task. It’s improv rather than reading scores, it’s sailing a boat in a storm rather than having a transaction at a bank window, it’s risky, it makes you vulnerable, you’re aware of and processing together all sorts of environmental factors and responding dynamically; there are feedback loops on top of feedback loops, and there’s a massive emphasis on communication.

I proposed four hypotheses related to collaboration and cooperation:

  1. In an environment of change, collaboration becomes more important.
  2. Collaboration is required for group adaptation.
  3. Collaboration builds relationships.
  4. Liaisons may be the best positioned to collaborate of all the people in the entire planet.

A brief explanation of these: I decided that in our fluid, changing environments, we have to collaborate to be successful, that that collaboration is the only way to get a group of people to do something differently, that it’s the best way to build relationships with peers (because you have to have each other to survive), and I suggested that it’s the role of the liaison, in particular, to effect collaboration. Because the liaison is by nature half in and half out of the group. Relationships–a tying-together kind of thing, in other words, a thickening of the soup, bringing us back to the cream idea. N’est-ce pas?

Some notata bene I felt it important to add:

  1. Collaboration is politically vulnerable.
  2. Collaboration works best in a community that appreciates it.
  3. Confusion about when cooperation or collaboration is more appropriate freaks people out.
  4. Collaboration takes a lot of time. And the groundwork is invisible. And it’s occasionally hard to explain.
  5. Collaboration (and learning in general) is anxiety provoking.
  6. Collaboration builds on cooperation and is a ground for it.

Explanation: basically collaboration comes at a cost: being highly unstable, political unwise, and anxiety-provoking; we should not jump into it without knowing the costs. The best of all worlds is when your enlightened boss, school, organization know(s) what it means to collaborate and unleash(es) you to do it, with all that it will consequently entail for you and them, including lots of short-term inconveniences, because they want the long-term payoff.

Another two points I think worth making.  First, it’s probably wrong to contrast these two approaches, which really need each other. I can’t really collaborate if we haven’t been cooperating or if I can’t subsequently evolve that collaboration into a cooperation.

Second, every organization at any given moment should be running some mix of collaboration and cooperation. Lean towards cooperation in the calm periods. Lean towards collaboration in the crazy periods. Whatever the case may be, it is important that everyone on the team knows what that mix is, and who is doing what. As a kind of natural collaborator, I see all the time the quite remarkable stress caused when peers assume I should be cooperating, and I’m collaborating. If you’ll have a particular person do one or the other, it would be good to let everyone know it, and to know the ramifications thereof, and to say a blessing on them.

As a tantalizing concluding device, I’ll leave you with this little association table I concocted–eight, arbitrarily chosen, other ways of expressing the same sort of dichotomy I develop here between collaboration and cooperation:

  1. Transactions vs. Virtual Circles
  2. Linear or Causal Systems vs. Complex, Dynamic Systems
  3. Departmental or Compartmental Views vs. Institutional or Holistic Views
  4. Consistent Performance vs. Inconsistent Creation
  5. Bergson’s Intellect vs. Bergson’s Intuition
  6. Fixed Mindset vs. Growth Mindset (see Carol Dweck)
  7. Red Ocean vs. Blue Ocean
  8. IQ Test vs. Zone of Proximal Development

Loving Other People’s Ideas

25 Oct

Much in the air today is this idea that we have to grow ourselves away from factory-workers and towards entrepreneurial, experimental, discovering, inventive, innovative, restless creators. Because that’s how we’ll do well in the era of globalization and radical technological and cultural change. I believe it, and I wanted to draw attention to a related detail.

A consequence of innovating is that we will have to do a better job of loving each other’s ideas.

If we start asking people to experiment and innovate, they are going to begin coming up with and expressing all sorts of ideas. That’s logical, right? That’s a part of the creative process: a flow of thoughts, hypotheses, new ways to look at things, questions about curious points, alternative assumptions, some banal, some naive, some interesting, some earth-shattering? In fact, the whole point of this new way of being is to encourage a flow or sluice of variegated thought so that from it we can pluck the occasional gold nugget?

Well then we have a little problem. In my experience the last thing we generally wish to hear from another person is a new idea. We are perhaps worse at knowing what to do with someone else’s idea than we are at about anything we do. We use every sort of frown, grimace, disparaging remark, sigh, or attack-hidden-as-helpful-suggestion to quash the idea and punish its owner and separate it and its threatening goofiness from us and our calmness or our own particular initiatives.

Years ago my colleagues and I used a wonderful little artifact we found on the web, called “How to Kill Ideas,” which was developed by the Cambridge Tire Company, and which seems to have been captured on this bilingual site. Tell me who hasn’t heard these commonplace phrases mentioned a dozen times a day? Who hasn’t said them her- or himself a thousand times over? Who hasn’t even gone beyond attacking the idea to (be honest) occasionally disparage the idea-haver, particularly if they won’t stop proposing all sorts of new things?

Even the creative types, the artsy-people, the touchy-feelies (like me), who passionately and deeply love creativity, generative thought, the notion that people and organizations and the world exist to make beauty and to develop and to grow, and not to remain stagnant, and so on, even we use these phrases. Even parents, even teachers, even ministers, any who would go to their deathbed swearing they would never do anything to repress or constrain or restrain or begrudge or occlude or proscribe the gurgling brook of a child’s wondrous whimsy, even they do, too.

So it’s tough not to squish ideas. I noted when I was looking for the document linked above that there are about 10,000 web pages dedicated to this point. So everyone knows we need to stop slapping the wrists of people with ideas. Otherwise our hopes for innovation are fairly well doomed.

But how do you do it? How do you love other people’s ideas? I have some thoughts. Basically, I think, it’s about not putting yourself in contention with the idea-haver. You have to act as a friend of the idea, not a force to be overcome. And if you do that, you might get a little innovation out of your people. But how to become a friend of the idea? I propose a few steps, with one rule: use the minimum number of steps: only do step 1 if you can get away with it; add step 2 only reluctantly, and so on.

  1. Train yourself to be happy during the hearing of the idea. At any point you realize an idea is being sprung on you, you must train yourself to instantaneously adopt a zen-like Buddha stance and encourage the expression of the idea with smiles and nods, head tilted compassionately to the side, eyes aglow with excitement and interest, pupils dilated. What about the next meeting you need to get to? What about the email you wanted to send? Suppress them. Make it known in your organization that ideas take precedence. Then you can say “I was encouraging the expression of a new idea,” as you come in late to the meeting; everyone will applaud.
  2. Don’t say anything. You noticed all the kinetic and expressive, but word-free gestures of step 1, above? That’s because you must say as little as possible. Why? Because it’s not about you, it’s about the bearer of the idea, whom you are attempting to grow into the kind of person who will produce ideas in a constant sluice. No matter what you say, if you’re talking, they aren’t, and you’re therefore blocking the flow, which is the sacred thing you must preserve. Just be patient: a) you’ll get your chance to contribute thoughts sooner or later and b) your thoughts are ultimately unnecessary, really.
  3. Clarify. At a certain point the flow will dwindle and the idea-haver will have tired and may be ready to hear some things. This is like that moment in the film Buck where you can give a little slack because the horse gave a little slack. You can ask a question or two to make sure you understood what was said. Here’s the kicker though. Your clarification must be offered as a kind of appreciation and not as an attack; you have to ask things innocently and not with an ulterior motive. After each answer to your question, say “Ahhhhh,” as if you were witnessing fireworks.
  4. Praise. You probably guessed this one. Yes, if your idea-haver is still there, you will now need to say what you like about the idea, and it needs to be genuine. No Polyanna-ish silliness. It can’t feel like empty, formal, required praise. You really have to insert yourself in the speaker’s mind and try to capture what excites them about the idea, and feed it back to them. I know you’re thinking: “I pride myself on being direct and straightforward. I never lie. This feels like a lie.” It isn’t a lie. There is always something to be praised about an idea; we as a species have just forgotten how to do it. Skip the praise at your own peril: people who feel like nobody likes their ideas will soon stop having them, or will take them to somebody else who does like them. And no innovation for you!
  5. Imagine it happening. Some people want more, though. So if your idea-haver is expecting additional feedback you can move on to this step. Here’s where I break from the Ladder of Feedback that I’ve mostly followed heretofore. The Ladder calls for expressing concerns at this stage, followed by recommendations. I think once you even say the word “concern,” you’ve killed the idea, and a recommendation is almost as bad. Both tend to put you in contention with the idea-haver. So I suggest instead that you simply pick up the idea, put it on a stage, and stand back to look at it with the idea-haver. What do I mean? Well, you just imagine what it would be like to do it. “Let’s imagine what it would be like to do it,” you might say. Or, “What would it take to try this out?” Or, “What if we tipped it like this?” And, “What if we turned it like this?” The trick is that when you start talking about ideas in this way, the idea-haver feels like you’re on his/her team. And all the various objections that could come up, do, naturally, eventually, to the idea-havers themselves. And you don’t have to say anything, which is the holy grail of idea loving.
  6. Let it stew. The best thing about a good idea is it won’t go away. And as it bounces around in your head and others’, it grows, shapes, reforms, etc. Don’t be in a hurry to either squish it or write it up or promote it to some kind of implementation. Let it percolate; think about it overnight. Nothing more rewarding for the idea-haver if someone comes back to them a day or two later and says “I was thinking about your great idea . . .”

Thoughts on Mobility and Learning

13 Sep

What will mobility do for learning? I make some guesses.

First of all, when you learn, you do four key sorts of things by my count–you interact with some information (like the course readings or the lecture); you process that information, generally socially (in conversations in or outside of class, for instance); and you conduct some kind of performance of understanding (like write a paper or take a test or make a video). You also get feedback on any of these three things so you can know where you are and how you can improve. In my opinion we’ll see the core effect of mobility in breaking down the distinction of these five categories, and adding the affordances of each to all. Let me explain.

Access to resources. Clearly mobile computing will give us access to the information we need to work with in learning, to wit, the text book, wherever we need it. This part is pretty much already there–if perhaps limited for the moment while format wars resolve themselves. I’m a tad old school and even I am reading a Kindle book across 3 or 4 devices on the bus, on the train, at home, at my desk at work, etc. As long as it’s just an electronic version of a codex or a journal article it’s neat but it’s not that world-shaking: where it gets really fun is when the formats of the “resources” allow for interaction, say, become games, or start to read you (“David, you seem to have trouble recognizing the preterite; here’s a introduction to the tense”), or let you and other people read together, and so on. To that last point, you know a lot of people study in the library because they’re reinforced by the presence of other people studying. A nice little socially-wise mobile app could replicate that (“David, your classmates Danny and Denise are also reading this and are struggling with paragraph 11,” etc.) . . .

Processing the Information. I segued a touch into this already in the last paragraph–but the idea here is that mobile computing should change the way you process the information in the course. If right now I think a bit on my own and I talk through ideas my friends at lunch and in the classroom, maybe that thinking and that conversation go online and social. Maybe I’m connected with people processing the same information in other schools and countries, in courses and out of courses, here and there and everywhere. That would be neat: I can’t sleep at 3AM but I can be trying to figure out what Piaget’s thinking is on such-and-such aspect of child development by talking to a fellow learner on their lunchbreak in Abu Dhabi. I should probably have said Geneva. Just letting me talk with a broader pool of fellow learners in different contexts is great. Where it gets even neater is where mobile changes the way I talk. Maybe instead of talking, we’re drawing pictures together, or moving idea representations around with haptic gestures. Maybe we’re constructing something together, some kind of interesting visual record of our thought over time.

Performing Understanding. I got ahead of myself again. You have to do something when you learn, to show you learned something, which is helpful in figuring out your grade, and also helpful for you to get a sense of your progress (which ends up being important in motivation). But doing things is also of course the learning itself. Doesn’t it seem that your learning goes up when you have to articulate it, document it, explain it to someone else?Mobile platforms seem to me to hold the process of giving us all sorts of ways to do the learning, collaboratively, individually, you name it. For example, the lecture. What if, instead of the lecture as it has been–a structure of thought prepared by the teacher in advance and sort of deposited upon the course–the lecture were to become a collaborative creation of the course. Rather than a prefabricated idea-stream, it could be an idea stream students all worked together to fabricate, in real time, in the class. It could be a documentation of the thought development in the particular session, rendering that thought development visible, rather than a precursor to the thought development. A classroom of mobile devices holds this promise for me.

Feedback. It ends up feedback is key to learning. How can you get better if you don’t know how you’re doing? Key to feedback is timeliness and informativeness (if you will): that the feedback gets to you while you, for instance, still remember what it was you were trying to do, and that it gives you information that is helpful. Traditional feedback is rather limited; comments on papers are pretty notorious about coming in late, and all feedback, perhaps influenced by the fact that there are 20 – 100 students in the college course and only 1 – 5 or so instructor types, tends to be less informative than it could be. Everyone, I’m sure, has received papers with the well-known one-word comment method, like “vague” (a self-judging comment if ever there was one) or, worse, “Good!” Mobile platforms hold out the promise of helping give better and more timely feedback by more people, to the learner. And vice versa. The professor and the other students can be telling me during my presentation, for instance, what they’re thinking point by point, while they are thinking about it, and I can see that in real time or unpack that information later. Even neater perhaps is that mobile devices can give feedback to the teacher in real time about the course. Teachers need feedback, too; think about the traditional course evaluation, the main feedback unit the professor gets, which comes in after the course is over! Imagine if the teacher knew during a very session who was engaged and who not, what points people didn’t understand, whether people felt ready to move on, etc: now that would be a dynamic course! Mobile could do that.

Pedagogical Space and Political Space

18 Jul

I am reflecting on the difference between pedagogical and political space. I tend to prefer the former; I don’t think you can escape the latter. My thoughts below.

Pedagogical space is where people organize themselves to learn. It has what they call “psychological safety.” You can be vulnerable and wrong. In fact, that is the point–to be wrong, to reflect on it, and to adjust. You do messy things like encounter challenging new information and try to make sense of it, or surface your assumptions (things you believed but didn’t know you believed) and adjust them. All with a group of people doing the same thing. There is multi-directional communication, but it isn’t out of control: everyone gets a chance to (and has to) talk; no one person dominates. Reflection and feedback are the coins of the realm. Not just “I love it or I hate it” feedback, but careful, generative, constructive feedback that tells you what you understand well and where you can think a little bit more. File assessment under the feedback category: in pedagogical space, assessments are going all the time–informal, formal, and in-between–of your learning, of the group’s learning, of the teaching, of the interaction, of the value of the information the class is working on, on the goals of the course. Oh, and you buy in and have say, but you also have responsibilities. You have the chance to CHOOSE to be in the space, and to choose the particular way you’ll go about your learning (from a discreet list, likely), but you also have to help uphold the norms. Pedagogical conversations incline towards wondering–sharing data with proposed interpretations. Finally, pedagogical space leaves more capacity in its wake (because people learn, are more developed, have relationships, know better how to learn).

Political space is different. The goal isn’t to learn, it’s to influence or control. Communication is generally unidirectional–from the person who wants to do something to the people who are suposed to let her; the communication is minimal (just enough to get approval) there is little chance for feedback. When feedback happens, it’s stilted, shrunken, a critique (with an ulterior purpose) or a sycophantic agreement. There is less choice–you’re there because it’s your job, say, or it’s the place you use to tell people what to do. Vulnerability is to be avoided (because people will use that to divert your plans), and the last thing you want to do is reflect on your own assumptions. You also desire not to be wrong, and not to admit it if you are. Your gaze is outward, towards the external world you intend to change. There is no real assessment of the team or its conversation or its purpose–if there is assessment, it’s usually of the product of the work of the team. Political conversations incline towards the dogmatic–positions or interpretations without evidence. And, finally, political space leaves the same or less organizational capacity in its wake.

Having said all this you probably can’t have all one or the other, and any group or conversation probably only leans one way or the other. Neither is completely bad or good. Political space, for instance, is what you want when you don’t need to learn, but just need to act. It’s efficient. On the other hand, if you want your team to do some new work it’s never conceived of before, or grow in some important way, or takle a challenging new problem, political space isn’t going to work on its own. Political space does seem to be the societal default, but it doesn’t need to be; by contrast, it seems the great leaders use pedagogical space to great advantage to convey their message. One thing that does seem clear: the people involved need to know what space they’re in. A part of the team following the rules of one when the rest of the group is in the other would be awkward. So maybe the ultimate goal is to let the team pick the one you want based on what you are trying to do, and be open about it.