Workshops, & Territories, & Ideas

Did some strategy things. Worked with a client group to get them to really think about what they do and why. Pushed some buttons that made them uncomfortable (in a nice way) and that really got them woken up to the idea that they can’t sleepwalk their way to growth. Went well.

Part of the work was looking at broad territories that we could explore together. I always do three. One is safe. It’s now. One is a little bit scary, a nudge towards an (I think) obvious future. And one is there to make them super concerned that they don’t have the aspiration or the actual chops to do. Except they do. And they could easily do it with the right tools, the right coaching and the right foundations. They went with that! Rarely happens, but they were visibly excited to just embrace the change. They know it won’t be easy but they don’t want to stand still while the rest of their sector moves on. They don’t want to be the losers. Yes, there is ai involved. Not the usual nonsense grift but good ideas around ML and pattern matching and insight sifting. Nothing new but presented in a way that sounds new.

Today I have given things a real focus. I’m working on giving it clarity. Tomorrow will refine my thinking. Wednesday will be about building out the tools they need to execute this strategy, and set out the pathways they can take. Next week it’ll be brought to life properly. I’ll even do some marketing work for them so they can take the ideas to their customers. The ones they have. The ones they want to have. Test and learn. Some (hopefully) minor refinements and then done. Invoice and move on.

Looking forward to what’s next.

Boundaries and systems and jigsaws

I love a jigsaw puzzle. I find it stimulating and relaxing in equal measure, similar to reading. There’s a high level of satisfaction in completing one, too.

Yesterday evening I started doing a puzzle. It’s an image of the London Underground map, or rather it’s an image of the wider Transport for London (TfL) map, so includes the Overground lines and Croydon Tramlink. The entire border of the puzzle is a collection of all the different roundels that TfL uses, or has used.

I was thinking about it today as I was out for a walk with the dog.
I started to think about it as I wanted to get today’s writing and work done so I could sit down and start working on finishing it. The outer edge pieces are all in place, so it’s just the middle ‘map’ that I need to get done.

However, I had two thoughts that I want to come back to – two of many thoughts about many things that I need to get around to writing – but they feel relevant to me:

  1. Boundaries are set in jigsaw puzzles, but I’ve learned to question any boundary judgement and so I got to wondering whether jigsaws that have no percieved edge was possible; if so, what would it look like?
  2. The TfL map is something I know well; however, when I break it up into 1000 tiny pieces, I start to look at it in new ways. This is similar to how I might think about a problem, how it comes together and in which order (process) or how things relate to one another and what that means for the situation in front of me (systems thinking). I might also consider shuffling things around to see how they might fit together, or look for meaningful patterns to see if that can help me (in this instance, I noticed very quickly that it was easier to build out the roundels and then the straight edge rather than what might be considered the ‘traditional’ way of approaching a jigsaw puzzle).

Ultimately, puzzles are not just good for my mental health, they’re good for thinking about how I work, why I work the way I do, and what I can learn from not doign things the way that seems the best from the outset – or be prepared to shift my methods intentionally.

Jigsaw are frameworks, then? Or they’re like maps? Which likely means they’re both.

Small Change = Big Transformation

I spend a lot of time helping people improve situations – processes, products, services, brands, etc.
There are often many levers that could be pushed or pulled.
The art of improvement is knowing which levers should be left well alone.
At least that’s my experience.

In 2016 and 2017, I spent most of the my life in hospitals.
It was fascinating to see how people inside hospitals worked.
Often, technology was used, yet many of the workers fell back on pen and paper.

While there are certainly times to measure twice and cut once, in hospitals taking observations like blood pressure and temperature on pen and paper only to transcribe it into a digital interface means losing time that could be spent doing other things.
It’s inefficient.

One day, after a procedure, I was taken to a room to recuperate.
It was a nurses’ office.
Several people came in, huddled around a computer and a lively discussion took place.
I realised they were discussing an update to the Windows OS.
A huge change for them.
Yet, the IT department hadn’t considered all the shortcuts.
No one in the team knew how to add application shortcuts to the taskbar.

I wasn’t allowed to move, but I called out to them.
Giving simple instructions, I enabled one of the nurses to add a shortcut to her taskbar.
Excitement was expressed by all the team.
They swiftly moved to other computers, or left the room (I later learned, to go to other computers at the nurses’ station on the ward).

The most senior nurse came to thank me.
Why?
They’d had a ticket opened to have shortcuts added by a central IT team.
It was low priority for the team (as it no doubt should have been given the systems in places for technology that saves lives) yet it was high priority for the nurses.
I’d unlocked weeks of frustration for them.

Phone calls were made, and nurses began to tell other colleagues around the hospital how to add shortcuts.
Instructions were typed and quickly emailed.
Within 20 minutes, I think every nursing staff member had those instructions in their inbox.

A few weeks later, when I was back for a check-up, a nurse I’d never met before came up to me and said thanks.
I must have looked miffed, as she went on to explain that someone had pointed me out as the person who had helped with the taskbar shortcuts.
It had changed their working lives in ways that were immeasurable.

There was a disconnect between priorities for IT and for those using the technology.
This is what led to stress and frustration.
Easily fixed in the end, but what probably looked like a huge challenge.
The culture of sharing information came naturally to the nursing staff, so telling one of them how to do it (at a suitably senior level) quickly led to adoption across the hospital.

And that’s how I came to do some digital transformation for the NHS.

Feedback

I’ve been reading about System Dynamics and feedback loops – reinforcing ones and balancing ones – and I’ve been drawing a lot of diagrams to show how that might play out in a work context.

It’s been pretty good fun, I have to say.
Which isn’t something I thought I’d write.
It’s fun because drawing a diagram is a good way to think about a problem and how to go about solving it, or to consider a situation and how that might be improved.

While that resolves some of the mechanics of a situation or problem, it removes a lot of the emotion involved.
This is especially true of creative feedback.

I’ve never looked closely at Julian Cole’s Planning Dirty decks as they appear to be solely for those who work in advertising.
Yet, this morning as I was grazing LinkedIn posts desperate for something nutritional, I saw Julian’s notes about how to do creative feedback.
He splits it into three areas: head, heart, and body.
This deals with the problem and the brief, the idea that is trying to solve that problem or answer that brief, and finally the execution of the idea.

Simple, really.
But so elegantly put.
And something that can be tweaked for almost any situation, even if it’s not a creative problem/brief/answer/execution.

I could steal all of Julian’s ideas and present them here, but not only is that bad, I’m also too lazy.
When the original concept is so good, why bother to repurpose it.
Go read it.

The Reification of Strategic Practice

One of the concepts I like most from my study of Systems Thinking in Practice is the idea of reification. This is the idea of making a concept into something more concrete, to give it a name as it were.

This is dangerous.
From a systems thinking perspective.
Because it makes it seem like it’s the only answer, when there are a multitude of ways to overcome a challenge or to navigate a messy situation.
Reifying something makes it a crutch, which is a meta-reification if ever there was one!

My latest module is all about strategy and how the systems thinking heuristic can enable strategies that work for complex situations in uncertain times.
Bang on for me, I’d suggest.
Bang on for the current situation.

I’ve been considering strategic approaches to solving specific situations recently.
Both are for work purposes, although one has more personal connections.
With the latter, I’ve had to project the possibility that there is no one, single path that I can define.
In fact, in my presentation this week I talked about systems and relationships, the explicit and implicit and how my strategy for the messy situation is only to pay attention to those at all times.
That the answer will flit and dance and drift in and out of focus.
It won’t be graspable at any time.

That’s a hard position to take.
Except that is doesn’t change the strategic destination, the goal or aim.
It just means that how we get there will be ever-changing.
That we may seemingly meander.
Perhaps loop back on ourselves.
(Which made me consider, for a fleeting moment, what the commercial equivalent of an ox-bow lake might be.)
But ultimately, we will have chosen the correct path because it gave us the efficient flow when we needed it, slowed us down when we had to make hard choices about where next, and even offered us a view of a previous state from a new position (which is, I suppose, a form of hindsight).

But doing this allowed me to show how the strategy would work in a simple way.
Elegant even.
A one-page diagram with four interconnected parts to it.
That made the complexity of the road ahead manageable for others.
Not simple, or even simplistic.
Understandable.
So that anyone on that call, from the finance person to the HR person to the commercial director, could see how it related to them personally, on a work level and as an organisation.
Which is what I would argue strategy should do.
Good strategy.

Beyond that, the thing that I’m learning from my STiP study is that I’m able to demonstrate my thought process in a single diagram, or a rich picture (as described by Peter Checkland’s Soft Systems Methodology).
Which can be shared with little or no additional context and be understood.

Because these tools don’t reify.
They just present things as they are and invite others to add their own ideas and thoughts to the picture, to make it richer.

Allowing you to see things in a different way.
Like a reverse of Scriberia‘s images I so often associate with Neil Perkin’s Firestarters series.

If I were writing briefs, I’d include more of these types of heuristics.
They would be so useful to creative teams.
To multi-disciplinary teams.
To clients, too.

A Question of Ethics

I was on the #Cardstock Zoom call today.
Matt Ballantine mentioned the difficultly in determining ethics within an organisation.
I said I could help.
Because ethics is something that comes up more than once within systems thinking.

The biggest problem with ethics is that people assume you mean morals.
While they share the same house, they are definitely in different rooms.
Morals are personal, whereas ethics are defined by the group.
And therein lies the problem.
It’s a group activity.

Ethics can’t be rushed, either.
They should not be provided as a static way of being.
Instead, ethics should be malleable, almost as if they were a start-up within an organisation.
This allows for new worldviews to be brought to the table for discussion.
We’ve seen how this might play out with the current Covid-19 pandemic and the dilemmas that doctors are finding themselves in with regards to who gets treatment and who doesn’t.
It’s not as cut and dried as it might seem.

Morally, it should be everyone.
Ethically, the choice is not binary.
This is why hospitals have ethics committees, so that one person’s morals don’t override what is best for all parties involved.
It also means difficult decisions need to be made.
But it also means that as new data are made, so that committee can shift their ethical policy.

Heinz von Foerster (1992; Ethics and second-order cybernetics. Cybern Hum Knowing 1:9–19) states that ethics are “desirable and undesirable conditions inherent in any action and in the consequences of the action.”
The conditions of our ethics are not abstract, but are a core part of a form of action. This is clear in the example above about our current medical situation.

So, how do you go about creating ethics?
Discussion.
Reflection.
Knowing, and accepting, each other’s worldviews (which will include morals).
And a big bucket of compromise.

Because ethics are emergent.
They are not static and solid.
Despite what we think.

Those practices that we can agree upon, as a group, are what make up our ethics.
As Ray Ison points out in his excellent book, How to Act (Ison, 2010, pages 108-109), it is the working on the code of ethics (or conduct) that is important, not the code itself.

If that all sounds like it’s obscuring the obvious, it’s not meant to. What it means is: we need to have the difficult conversations in order to determine where we are willing to draw our boundaries.
That’s where the ethics are.

Compass

When I think about how I work as a strategist, I start with the image a compass.
While I may begin working before this, in terms of reading information and going for a walk, by the time my client gets to hear and see my thoughts it’s the compass that they are interested in.

Why a compass?
From where we are now, and where we think we need to get to, what bearing do I need to take?
It’s what a compass is good for.
Orienting within a given terrain at a specific moment.

The thing about a compass is, whenever you need to make sure you’re still heading on the same bearing – or if you need to divert, or even change direction – you can use to work out how to get somewhere from the point you’re at.
Every time.

Orienting yourself around the challenge is really important. It’s not a step that can be skipped, or guessed at.
And the more I read and write around systems thinking, the deeper I believe this.

For clients, I am the compass.
I am the person who helps them understand where they are and where they want to go.
Together work out the possible routes.

More on that later.

Constraints

Today has been a hard day.
I’ve been writing my end of module assignment.
It’s not so much the subject matter that is causing a problem, it’s a constraint imposed upon me: a word count.

Constraints exist everywhere, some are imposed by others, some by ourselves.
Some are implicit and others explicit.

This one is causing me some mental frustration.
How to condense 6 month’s of learning across 52 concepts into 2,200 words, including a conclusion.
There is a lot of redrafting happening.

And that’s what we do with any constraint.
We push to the limit and then change things to better fit what we have.
Whether that’s rewriting an assignment, redecorating our homes and rearranging the furniture, how we work with others, or how we arrive at a decision.

Constraints are a necessary evil.
I could write 10,000 words on systems thinking concepts, but it would likely be mostly waffle.
The constraint is there is make me behave reflexively and to select my words carefully.

When I worked in advertising, constraints were provided by planners and strategists. They still are. Some people believe it’s the pithy statement that we call the ‘reason to believe’ or the ‘unique selling point’ or ‘positioning statement’ that serves as a creative stepping stone; others say it’s the actual brief itself.
And it’s all those things.
Constraints that make you love and hate them simultaneously!

But, I think, it’s also the process that someone goes through to arrive at this destination.
It’s the framing and reframing, the taking out and putting in and taking out again.
The decisions made.
Perhaps that’s the art of the constraint?
Or in a systems thinking world it’s what we do when we do what we do, as strategists.

Yes, that will do.